Storm
by Zolo77
Summary: AU - Multi-chapter, multi-part story which follows a choice made at the beginning stages of the New Republic. A choice which sets Han & Leia on an entirely new course. A little dark at times - fair warning: rating may elevate. R&R
1. Chapter 1

**... Part One ...**

* * *

_Three sheets to the wind and we're sorry, always sorry _  
_For everything we never meant to do _

_\- The Rocky Fortune_

* * *

The apartment was cold. Leia sat in the centre of the living room, staring out over the never-sleeping cityscape which had been her home for nearly a year. Behind her, the galley gleamed bright white from the light of the window, reflecting off the ultra-modern sleek finishes which she had never been entirely partial too.

The day seemed a month long, and all she really wanted to do was curl up and sleep for years. But she couldn't, not yet. So she sat instead, cold tea forgotten in her hands, feet folded underneath her, clad in lined leggings and one of Han's old shirts. She certainly didn't look like a princess, and in that moment she didn't feel like much of one either. She glanced again - annoyed at herself for doing so - at the commlink lying beside her. It too, like the room she was waiting in, was silent. She hadn't received notification that he had landed, but then again - she swirled her tea absently - she didn't really expect to, at least, not anymore. How long had it been? Three months? It felt longer. Gone on a mission he shouldn't have been handed in the first place, they had hardly spoken to each other over the last several weeks. His campaign had pushed him deeper and deep towards the rim worlds, and communication had been sketchy at best.

As if needing him could summon him, the door slid open and Han walked through, dragging two large duffel bags along with him. He heaved a heavy sigh and dropped his baggage at the entry, kicking off his boots with a tired thud and closing the distance between them in several long strides. He reached down tenderly to kiss her - hoping to savor the usual sweet reunion of homecoming, when she grabbed him, pulling him down to her, desperate and hungry.

"I missed you." she gasped, as he half collapsed on top of her, clutching her solidly around her small frame, trying hard not to over balance completely as her hands scrambled at his back. He chuckled, moving his hands to frame her face, pulling her back slightly so he could look at her. "I missed you too. I didn't expect you to still be up."

"I wanted to wait for you."

"I'm glad." he smiled and tucked her hair back.

"I expected you earlier, did you run into trouble?" Her large eyes searching his face made him feel slightly guilty for avoiding her this afternoon.

"No, I got in earlier, just had a lot to do before I could even think of coming home." It was a half-ass lie, and she would have known that as soon as it was out of his mouth.

"Oh." she glanced down, hands twisted ever so slightly in her lap.

"But," he continued, sidling more comfortably onto the sofa beside her, and dropping his voice down to a conspiratorial whisper, "I'm not going anywhere tomorrow. And neither are you." She brightened at that, which was a little out of character. It was usually not a hard sell to keep her to himself the day after he got home, but it was usually a _sell_. She would argue - lamely - that she couldn't, that she had too much to do, that she simply wasn't able to just take time off whenever she felt like it. But none of her usual arguments were given, instead she simply sighed and leaned back into him, pulling his arms around her and breathing deeply several times.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, I'm just so happy you're home." she tucked her head under his chin.

"How was your day"

"Fine." She stiffened. "When did you get back?"

"I was planet-side by 1300, but it took a while to get everything finished up. I was back at the office by 1600-ish."

"At the office?"

He nodded, wondering at her elusive mood. He was tired, he missed her, and the last thing he really wanted to do right now was try to push her into answering the question he really needed to ask her.

"Do you want tea?" She suddenly asked, pulling out of his arms and grabbing up her cold glass from beside her where he had relegated it from her hands moments ago to the low table. Tea usually worked in getting her talking, so he nodded in agreement.

"How did the delegation go?" He called from the sofa, closing his eyes against the question. He had already seen how it had gone. He had watched as her whole body stiffened and her voice take on more of her royal accent, reserved only for times of stress and uncertainty.

"Fine. They'll be here for some time yet, though, I imagine." she hedged.

"They seemed fairly serious."

"About joining? I hope so."

"Leia-"

"Here. Tea." she announced and placed the mug into his hands.

"Leia."

She didn't answer him.

"Leia." he whispered, harder this time. Finally she looked up at him.

"Yes?" her voice was tiny, echoing still through the bleak openness of their apartment.

"I was there."

Han watched her chest expand, as if it would explode. Redness crept up her throat and she darted her eyes down to watch the steam curl and creep outwards into the air between them.

"Oh." She said at last.

"You said you would consider it." It wasn't a question. She nodded slowly. "I didn't know what else to say." Her voice was small - even to her own ears. Her brain was evading her; she had to tell him, before he pulled a classic Solo and threw something - but her mouth wouldn't form any semblance of words. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. "Is that why you didn't come back here right away?"

"I just needed some space, Sweetheart. It was... a bit of a shock."

"Yeah," she spat out - angry now. "It was."

"Hey, that wasn't an easy thing to hear you know, I just-"

"You had space, Han! Three months of it! I was waiting for you tonight. Here. Alone. While you were out - what? Licking wounds without even bothering to come see me first? That's hardly fair, is it?"

"Mon said you would likely accept the offer. She was very _happy_ for you." He sat back, defensively. _That's good, Solo. Get her all riled up. That's what you really need to be doing._ His sub-conscience growled at him. He was starting to be an ass.

"Ha!" Leia laughed bitterly. "I bet she did!"

They sat in silence - a stalemate - for some time. Leia watching her tea, Han watching her. Then at long last, she raised her eyes to meet his again and he saw they were no longer angry, at least, for now, not angry at him. Instead, they were wet with tears. He felt like shit, here she was trying to talk to him about it, and he was just attacking her. Han set his mug down and sighed. He was tired. Bone tired. And all he really wanted to do was go to bed. They could deal with all of this in the morning. He was about to say as much when she blinked, two large tears tracked quickly down her cheeks, took a deep breath and spoke.

"I resigned."


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Thanks everyone! Glad you like - R&amp;R please. Have a good week!_

* * *

"I had to." She added quietly, staring down again at her tea. He took the mug from her - her hands cold despite the hot ceramic. "Why?" He knew why, or at least, he was pretty sure he did. But he wanted to hear it, wanted to watch her say it was for him. For them.

"This isn't the government I helped build." She said simply.

They had sat looking at each other for a long while, when Leia suddenly stood and stalked towards the window.

"I will not represent something which barters so openly with peoples lives. I spend the first twenty-odd years of my life planning to pull that type of government down. I refuse to sit back and participate in one which is simply newer and shinier."

Han pushed himself up and went to her, leaning a hand on the glass over her shoulder and staring out at the city around them, he said nothing. There was so much to say. But where to start?

"So, anyway," she was quieter now, anger seeping from her as he rested a large hand on her small back. "I resigned."

"You're sure that's what you want? I know how important it is to you, Leia."

She tuned, and leaned back against the window - something she never did, it always made her feel like she was about to fall - _but_, she mused, watching his face. She had already fallen a few times today, the thought wasn't so scary anymore.

"You're important to me." she said simply and that made him smile. "And, I won't let them throw you away. Or me, for that matter - which is exactly what they are doing. Trying to ship me off to a closed up society, keep me safely tucked away in their back pocket. After everything we've been through, all we've done for _them_? _This_ is their next move? No."

She was so cute when she got all fired up over something, he thought, watching her get more and more animated as she spoke. Her small hands moving too in agitation. He was used to watching her talk like this, he had sat across from her in enough closed room meetings and beside her at too many formals dinners to be surprised by her outburst, or the calculated way she used words. But, it was always nice when it was about him, not shipping schedules or strategic troop maneuvers.

"I wont let them throw you away. And certainly I won't let them ignore who I am. This is political posturing and I won't stand for it. We've been together for four years, and they think I would even consider- it's insulting."

"Well... yeah. It is."

"I'm sorry though. I should have spoken to you about it before I did it. It was rash and selfish. I'm sorry."

"Hey-"

"No, it was. I was just so mad."

"It's okay, shhh. Hey, listen. I've been trying to pull you away from them for seven years. I don't love you because of what you do. Most of the time, I love you _in spite_ of that." This made her smile, which had been his intention. And he was right. He had tried, over and over again - mostly to annoy her - to convince her that she should pack it in and come live with him on the _Falcon_, she was a good shot, and the company was always welcome. He continued more gently, running a hand down her arm. "I just don't want you to regret it."

"I won't."

"Listen to me, Leia. I love you, but I don't want you to give this up for me - for us," he quickly corrected as she opened her mouth to interrupt him. "and hate me for it in a few years, because you could have _done_ more."

"Never. I promise. This is my choice. And they made it for me."

"Come on. Let's go to bed. I'm dead on my feet. And tomorrow, we'll figure out what else we need to do."

She let him lead her down the long hallway towards their bedroom and watched him pull his clothes off as she sat on the bed.

"What did you mean 'what else'?" She asked as he disappeared into the fresher.

"Well, the last time I checked, I was still a high ranked New Republic General."

"Yeah."

"And you're no longer a member of the Council."

"You catch on quick." She quipped and pulled his shirt over her head, crawling under the covers.

"Okay, so then what happens when I'm dispatched again?"

"Oh."

"I'm planet-side for at a minimum of two standard weeks - I read my contract," he winked at her, climbing under the cold sheets with her. "But, after that - I have no idea where I'll be or for how long. Where does that leave you?"

"I don't know." She hadn't thought of that, and said as much. He laughed quietly, pulling her next to him and sighed.

"Yeah, I know." She was too tired to argue with him, or even to pretend to be offended by the way he knew her all too well sometimes. So instead, she relaxed and let the sound of his breathing next to her lull to her sleep.

**xXx**

"This is weird."

"It would be less weird if you were still naked." He pointed out, striding slowly across the bedroom.

She rolled her eyes at him and leaned back against the headboard.

"It's weird," she continued, giving him a rather pointed look. "Because I have no where to be this morning. Oh, thank you." She took the cup of caf from him. "On on that note, you're wearing pants. How is it weird for me to wear this?" She gestured to the over-sized sweater which hung from her small frame. It had originally been his - where he had gotten it he had no idea. The letter was faded and the hem was coming apart, but she loved it. He had angrily given it to her years ago on their trip to Bespin after a fight; she had kept it ever since. He kicked the pants off and leered at her.

"Only to the kitchen and back, Sweetheart. That caf machine splatters too much for my liking. But, I suppose we wont have to worry about that for too much longer." He sighed happily and grabbed his datapad from beside him.

"What do you mean?"

"We can't stay here. These are your _appointed_ quarters and you resigned."

"Oh! I hadn't thought of that either. I did _not_ think this through. Well, I guess we'll have to move." He nodded, staring down at the pad.

"Shit."

"What?"

"We're homeless! And it's all my fault."

"We're not homeless."

"Well, we have no home. Last time I checked, Flyboy, that meant you were homeless."

"Relax."

"You would think I would be used to it, I haven't had a home in, what? Nearly seven years."

"Stop it. We're fine. And don't be ridiculous. You have a home. You have me and I have the _Falcon_. _We_ have the _Falcon_."

She made an 'aww' face and snuggled up next to him. "I hate packing."

"Then it's a good thing we don't actually own much. None of this horrible furniture is ours. The only things we have are clothes, really."

"And the glasses from the bar. And my art." She smiled. He smiled back at her. They had traveled down several levels to an underground auction house the last time he was on leave, they hadn't gone for anything in particular, but had come home with an odd-ball collection of hand crafted glassware for their bar. It was the first unnecessary thing they had ever bought as a couple, and it had given them both a sense of grounding. The glasses signified a future neither of them had ever spoke of before. And, small as they were, those glasses had given them both hope.

"Okay then, see. Nothing to worry about. You could always come and live with me in the Officer's Barracks."

"Mmm. Tempting, but... no thanks." She smirked.

"Oh come on. Lot's of guys have their girlfriends staying with them."

"You're making fun of me."

"Maybe, here, what about this place?" He handed her the datapad, pictures of a beautiful two level apartment swooshed across the screen. The rooms were bright and open, friendly and welcoming. There was a large staircase which swept up from the living area. "Does that go to the master suite?" Han nodded.

"It's lovely." He nodded again. "This isn't a rental unit."

"No, it's not." He shook his head slowly, watching her. A flutter of excited worry shot through her.

"Can we afford something like that?" She handed the pad back to him.

"Depends." He edged, dropping the battered device onto the floor.

"On?"

"Whether I stay or not."


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: Have a good weekend!_

* * *

Leia stiffened next to him and he leaned over her to grab his datapad which had been discarded from the night before.

"Stay?" she questioned.

"Yeah." Han swiped across the screen of his datapad again.

"Stay where?"

"Here." He clicked a few more times.

She pushed away from him. "If I were you, Solo, I would start using more than one word answers."

"With the Republic I mean. Hey, come here." Finally turning to face her, he caught sight of a fleeting moment of uncertainly, fear and something else, something which had no place on her lovely face. He pulled her next to him. "You can't think I would leave you, Leia. We've been over this. I'm not going anywhere."

She said nothing, only tucked herself closer to him and turned her face away.

"What is it?"

"I don't know." she shrugged. Leia wasn't vulnerable often, strong and stubborn as she was; she rarely had time for vulnerability. But every so often, under the tough, beautiful exterior, a small glimpse of the woman who had lost everything, fought too hard and seen a bit too much peeked through.

"It was a shit day." It wasn't so much a statement as it was an exhausted half question. He could argue that it hadn't been - not really. That the decision she had forced on the both of them, that while massive and quickly executed, was exactly what he had hoped for the last five or so years.

Hell. He had wanted to steal her away since she cried beside him after the battle at Yavin. Young and brave, she had sat next to him, careful not to sit too close, silent tears streaming down her face. They had sat in silence. Neither wanting to ruin the small bright light of truce. A tiny momentary port in the horrible swirling storm which now threatened even larger.

They had come so far, in the last seven years. But that was the thing about storms, Han knew as he briefly kissed her temple feeling her relax further into his side, they were inevitable, powerful and creative. Destructive and blinding. And now, even here, sitting quietly with the woman he loved, Han could feel it. A tension building. It was not over yet. Not by a long shot. But at least this time, at least they knew they has each other.

**xXx**

"This is amazing. We need to go back to Kashyyyk, and soon."

"We've got nothing but time, Sweetheart. Just say the word and-" Han was cut short by the door chime. Leia shook her head resigned.

"It's Luke." she said, popping another slice of custard bread into the toaster and ran a hand down her messy half braid. Han would never let on where he managed to find her favourite childhood bread, it tasted of lazy summer days on Alderaan in the meadow, and she loved it. Especially as she was enjoying it right now, unhurried and strangely happy to do nothing - at least for the moment.

Han had wandered over to the door by the time Luke's second impatient chime tinkled through the air.

"It's all over the news." He exclaimed, clapping Han on the back in greeting. "Welcome back by the way. Go well?"

"Sure. Gave em' hell. That's all I can ask for." Han grinned that same cocky half smile he had and waved Luke through to the kitchen.

"Hey, I was just telling Han, you're all over the holonet. You made the top story on every channel I found this morning."

"Oh good." Leia swallowed another piece her honeyed custard toast. Malla's home-harvested honey; it was simply the best.

"Haven't you watched any of it?" Luke turned shocked eyes back and forth between the couple.

"Nope." Leia's toast strang up and Han stanched it before she could. Narrowing her eyes at him in mock warning she gestured to the caf machine and quirked a brow at her brother. Luke smiled and moved passed her, grabbing a mug off the glass shelving unit and pouring a glass.

"Really? I find that hard to believe. You're always glued to that thing when I come over."

Leia shrugged, a bit uncomfortably. "Well, now I don't have to be."

"I guess. Big news though. I didn't expect that when I saw the first few seconds of the report after my run this morning. You knocked me over, Leia. You sure?"

"Do you _actually_ want something, Skywalker?" She pointed her baby finger at him, biting into the breakfast balanced between her fingers - chewing like she was taking bites out of someones arm.`His, most likely, Luke knew.

"I just wanted to know you're okay, that's all."

"I'm fine."

"It's a big change." He offered softly.

"Not really." Leia pulled herself up, Political-Leia now starting to show.

"Leia. That was your _life_."

"No. It wasn't. This is my life." She pointed sharply around the room. "This; right here. And I won't have you, or anyone else try to tell me what or how I should be living it. Got it, Skywalker?" Her eyes were angry now. He has touched a nerve. A very raw nerve.

Luke nodded his head to the positive and she raised an eyebrow at both men in the small kitchen, pivoted and slowly walked away.

"She's in a very 'last name' mood today." Han offered, throwing the rest of his caf back and opening the refrigerator.

"I can see that. Have you seen any of the reports?"

"No, not yet. We'll watch them, she just..." Han trailed off, unsure how to describe to Luke exactly how he felt about all of this.

"It was bad, wasn't it?"

"I can't see how it could have been anything _but_ bad. Giving up something like that... especially for her. I don't know." He finished lamely.

"Well, the coverage is actually really good."

"Well that's something."

"And as of ten minutes ago, no one is camped outside the building. The angle seems to be more the leadership and the Hapens."

Han snarled involuntarily. "Are they at least leaving?"

"It didn't say." Luke shrugged. They were silent for a while, both lost in thought, in the crashing implications of everything which had led up to yesterday's shocking climax. Council had done this on purpose. They all saw that. But, as Han swirled the remainder of his morning drink around the wide brimmed mug, he couldn't help but wonder. If they had been able to create that plan right under his nose, what else did they have up their sleeves?


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Have a good weekend!_

* * *

The problem, Leia mused as she finished the rest of her toast and honey in the darkness of their small shared office, watching out the window at the morning commuter traffic zipping by, was that Luke had been right.

Or at least, almost right.

The Republic really had been her life. Han was always gone. Always. They had kept him from her. It was obvious then and it was blatantly obvious now. It hurt too, now that she knew why they had done what they did. Keeping her as the bargaining chip tucked securely up their sleeve, the council had mildly tolerated her 'affair' with Han.

She snorted angrily. Affair indeed. In the reflection of the large city, she could see the redden angry face of General Dordonna standing in front of her, spouting off about honour and duty and the safety of the galaxy and the Republic and whatever else he could think of to throw in her face. Offhandedly belittling her relationship with Han, a relationship which had continued regardless of the hurdles which were thrown in the way of it - for the last five years. One of - if not the most difficult and fundamentally important pieces of her life. Affair. Yes. That pretty well summed up the Council's opinion of her and Han. Dirty and sordid. Something to entertain for a while until a better offer come around.

She could also see Mon's white ashen countenance in the glass in front of her. "I know, Leia." She had said. Leia drew a quick breath in blinking to shatter the vision of her mentor standing to her side, feigning sympathy and understanding. Mon had never taken to Han. Never in the five years she had been with him had Mon tried to hide her dislike, her contempt even. She didn't know, nor did she care. _Lies_. Some dark small voice inside Leia's heart whispered to her. It was seductive, the soothing whispers, deep and calming. Pressing against her already frail wall of self-doubt and insecurity, begging to be released a little further... to allow herself to feel angry, betrayed even. These were colleagues. Friends. People she trusted. Comrades she had bled with.

False allies - all of them. Her chest heaved, and her mind clouded darkly.

They had _used_ her. The darkness pressed forward a fraction further, swirling in a small vortex inside her heart. Powerful and seductive. They had all _lied_.

"No." Leia said to her reflection after a moment, pressing the dark back inside herself quickly, ashamed and scared of what she had just touched. "It doesn't matter any longer. I'm free." She whispered, the words sounding too loud and far too large in the small room.

Free.

Was this how Han had always felt? This terrific sense of overwhelming freedom? It was unsettling but at the same time, oddly comforting.

She hadn't been free in... she frowned. Perhaps she had never been truly free.

For the first time, she stood at the centre of her own life.

"So, now what, Princess?" she muttered to herself.

"I could offer a few suggestions, if you like." Leia smiled and turned. He was close to her, standing an arms length away, fingers casually hooked into his pockets, sly grin on his face. She didn't reply. Content for the moment to simply watch him. She hadn't heard him approach, lost as she had been a moment ago in her own fragile future.

"Luke's gone." He finally said, words soft - as if speaking to an injured creature, which she supposed she was in a way. A small, sad creature who had just been cast out of something she loved. No, that wasn't right. Not cast out. Outmaneuvered. That was it. Her strategy had been wrong from the start. She had allowed them to look upon her and him with contempt, disdain and reticule. She had accepted their dislike and choose to live with it, instead of fighting for change. Maybe she had been tired of fighting. Maybe she had convinced herself it didn't really matter what they thought. Maybe she had tricked herself into not worrying about it.

Han had known. He had been on the receiving end of scorn for so many years. And through all of it, he had never pushed her into action on his behalf. Never was he outwardly angry or annoyed or even hurt. He was hers. And perhaps that _was_ really all that mattered.

She stared at him for a moment longer. Tracing the lines she knew so well. Han cocked his head at her slightly, gently questioning her silence.

"I don't know what to do." She whispered, as if unveiling a tremendous deep secret. The unsettling feeling of that dark lusty voice still hung heavily in her chest. Leia had thought she had come to a tentative type of truce with her heritage, with the unsavory truth of it all. Luke had a way of looking at it which she would never have - a positive wistful vision of what his life was like. It would never be that way for her. But in her own way she had managed to carve out a small acceptance for it. Now however...

"Me neither," he replied softly. It wasn't a helpful response, but at the same time Leia was relieved. It made her feel very much less alone, interrupting her downward thoughts and pulling her back to what really was important. But then, she always felt that way with him.

"It's not over, is it?" she sighed, sliding into the armless office chair, curling her legs underneath herself. Han chuckled. "You mean, do I think they'll just let you go? No. I don't. Not without a fight."

"I'm tired of fighting," sliding a hand across her neck and looking again out the large window. She was tired. Bone-tired. They both were.

"Leia." he snapped her attention back to the determination set firmly across his features. He came to crouch in front of her, taking her hands in his and squeezing firmly. "I will always fight for you. If this is what you truly want."

A lone tear slid down her cheek. Of course he would. He would always fight for her. They hadn't cared about that, about them. She wasn't important enough to her own people for them to take this moment into consideration. He squeezed her hands again. "What do you want, Leia?"

"You." She answered quickly, simply. Echoing her words from that late night on Bakura, when he stood behind her, posing the same question. She had been scared that night. Not of him. But of what they would mean to each other, of having something that couldn't be stolen away, something beyond tangible knowledge that she was loved.

He smiled then, releasing a breath she hadn't noticed he had taken, and pulled her to her feet, kissing her forehead. "Alright. First thing's first. We need a new home."


	5. Chapter 5

The news had hit. Hard.

Leia had - against her sound judgement- turned on the holovid as soon as Han had left to run a few errands.

Flipping quickly through thousands of channels, the majority of them now featuring her photo, all flattering at least, and hundreds of variations of the events of the last day. Her eyes flicked quickly across the headlines. Words ranging from "Shocking" "Impossible" "Absurd" "Imperialistic" and "Heartbreaking" jumped out at her. As she dropped into the lower stations, the reputable and less knee-jerk variety, more information seemed to leaking out. She stopped at one of her favourite stations, a local district channel reporting on lifestyle and politics, where a photo of herself and Han, laughing together as they exited the front doors of the senate building about six months ago, floated to the left of the report. The aging anchor, a kindly man always willing to be a little off the record for her in the past, grimaced while reading the report her office had officially issued earlier.

She listened, engrossed in her own drama, Luke has been right, the coverage was good. _A sad day. _That's what he was calling it. Yes, she agreed. Perhaps it was. _"Our Princess, Leia Organa of Alderaan has resigned from public office, effective immediately this morning." _That made her smile. He had always referred to her like that. _"Unable to carry on in a government which determined to undermine her own happiness and loyalty, she has left a hole in the heart of our Republican galaxy." _

"Nice." Leia jumped and whipped her head around, the rest of the carefully crafted statement forgotten momentarily; she hadn't heard the suite's door chime. "They'll be breaking down that door tomorrow, Leia. Don't worry."

"Hello, Lando," she gave him a waning smile. "No, they won't be, and no, I'm not worried." She looked passed him, "Is Han not with you?"

"Not yet."

"Yet?" She asked switching the unit off and pushing to her feet, heading to the bar cabinet on the side wall. "Drink?"

"He was on his way back when I spoke to him an hour ago; I actually didn't expect to beat him here."

"He's likely being mobbed in the lobby. Luke had a hell of a time getting in here earlier." She held up a second glass in silent question. Lando nodded. He'd always liked that about Leia, she didn't seem to have an internal clock when it came to appropriately having a drink. Or, is she had, it was silent a good part of the time.

She poured him four fingers worth and tossed in a stone to keep it cool. Lando was easy company. A stiff drink and flirty conversation - nothing taxing or heavy. He'd get around to why he was here. She just had to let him take his time.

"Thank you. You look lovely as usual. How do you feel?"

Taking a long pull at her glass before she answered and meeting his eyes briefly over the rim, he let her see, just for a moment, how much yesterday's decision had cost her. Yes. She was happy she had done it. Finally. But at the same time - there was something heinous in suddenly leaving behind a cause you had lived, killed and almost died for.

"I'm fine." she lied.

"Glad to hear it," he nodded, playing along. "_Well_?"

Leia laughed shortly, shaking her head, "_Well_ what? Well, what's next?"

"You know me - always looking ahead." he gave her one of his classic grins, and raised his glass to her in a salute.

"Yes. I have always admired that about you." she laughed. Lando had a remarkable ability to rise above any fire and come out of it much better off than before.

"You know me, 'move or die'."

Leia nodded again and folded herself into the corner on the large sectional sofa, legs curling automatically underneath of herself; sighing quietly. "The problem is, I don't know what I _should_ do next." He moved into the living room and sat across from her on the ottoman, eyes now serious. "It's like... I'm staring at the board, but I don't know what my next move should be because I cant see any of their pieces. Dramatic, isn't it?"

"But fair."

"Perhaps. The thing is-" She looked down abruptly, feeling suddenly shy and very young, "The thing is, I did this. I sort of, pulled the rug out from underneath everyone. I didn't even talk to Han before I walked out on _everything_ we've both been working towards for the last - _what?_ \- nearly six years! I was just angry. And that was more important. I wanted to hurt _them_ and look what I've done. I've forced Han's hand, he was building a career, something he loved and enjoyed. Something he's wanted since he was a kid. I didn't think of that. I didn't think of where we would go, what we would do. We can't live here for much longer. They won't hurt themselves on us for the next month or so by casting us out; public opinion being what it is at the moment - but it'll happen. I... I don't know. I feel very stupid today. The coverage is good. So that's something. But for how long? They can't love me - us - forever. So you're right, Lando. Now what?" She finished her rant quietly; sinking further back into the cushions - defeated.

"Did you have another move?" he asked quietly, watching her carefully. Leia very rarely broken down - even a little bit. Perhaps in private, likely with Han. But that was it. He had never seen her like this. Guilty. She was always forward. A planner. Careful and confident. While he, Han and Chewie would charge into something, Leia would stake it out first. Watching and finding a weakness. A wrinkle. That was always her angle. She never stopped thinking. Planning. That was it, he thought sadly, watching her now. She hadn't planned this out. This was new. This was very un-Leia of her.

"What do you mean?"

"Yesterday. What other move could you have made? If this is a game - what was your other option?"

"It's my life not a game." She snapped. Good, he almost smirked. There she was. He pointed two fingers at her, "Exactly."

Leia stared hard at him for several long seconds and exhaled deeply. "I couldn't do it anymore."

"Do what? Pretend your life was a game?"

"Not just _my_ life. But yes. I couldn't listen to it anymore. I have lost so much for this win. But they still want more from me. I suppose-" she drained her glass. "I suppose I finally realized it would never end. I would have to keep bleeding for them. They would always want _more_."

"Okay. So - what now?"

"Well," She untangled her feet and leaned forward conspiratorially. "We need a new apartment. Got any ideas?"

"Lucky for you - I always have ideas. But first," he stood and reached for her now empty glass. "How about another?"


	6. Chapter 6

Another two drinks later, Leia sat with an empty, heavy whiskey tumbler in one hand, the other hand pressing into her left temple, trying - unsuccessfully - to bully away a developing headache.

This was, without a doubt, the most ridiculous of days.

Lando was still talking, his speech gaining momentum as he strolled in purposeful circles around the sofa she was perched on. The sofa was awful. Uncomfortable and rented with the suite, it was white - like everything else in the apartment - and no amount of throw pillows could make sitting on it bearable. Han hated it. He was too tall for the low back and the edges of the seat cut into his legs. But, there was no where else to put it or another piece of furniture in the small space - so they very rarely sat in here.

"Okay, I give up. You win. What exactly do you want?"

Lando did another turn about the room before coming to a stop behind her.

"I have an… opportunity… which would benefit from your experience and Han's own particular brand of business sense."

"Does Han know about this 'opportunity'?"

"In a way." Evasive as ever, the business opportunist. He paced back and forth across the hard high gloss floor behind the sofa. Leia found herself wishing he would just sit down, a_nd where the kriff was Han? _

"I don't think I'm cut out to be a smuggling partner, Lando." She said dryly.

"Actually, I believe you'd be rather good at it. But that's not what I'm saying."

"You haven't really _said_ anything." Leia pointed out, pressing harder to no avail. _No good,_ she thought resigned. _Drugs it is. _

As if being annoyed by his absence could summon him back to her, the front door chimed, breaking the repetitive torture of Lando's pacing and breathing life into the stagnant space once more.

"It's a mad house down there." Han grumbled, kicking his boots against the wall, adding two new marks to the already large collection. _We'll have to paint over that before we leave," _Leia thought absently, distracted for a moment by the aggressive black scuff pattern left behind on the white wall. A low grumble pulled her attention back and she smiled widely at the Wookie coming through the doorway, ducking his head to fit. _I hate this place_, she thought suddenly. _It was meant to drive us apart._ The council - her peers - must have known that when they had assigned her these quarters.

Uncomfortable. That's what this apartment was meant to be. It was meant to push him out. Everything from the doorways being far too small for Chewie - to the tiny, horrible furniture. All of it.

_Gods, they must think this is what I'm like; stark, boring and uncomfortable. Why else would they put me here?_ She thought, horrified. They truly had no idea who or what she really was.

"Hey, you okay?" Leia blinked at Han's voice, close to her at the side of the sofa now, she realized she was staring hard at the small foyer where he and Chewbacca had stood only a moment ago. Chewie barked low and patted her shoulder as he lumbered by.

"Sorry, yes. I'm fine." she lied again. He didn't believe her either, the twitch at the left side of his jaw told her that. But he would play along - for now.

"Have you eaten?"

She shook her head 'no' and pressed her fingers again hard against her temple. "I'll order something in, you try to figure out what he," she jerked her head at Lando, now talking in hushed tones to Chewie facing the window, "wants."

**xXx**

"This wasn't half bad," Han commented, opening the cooler and tossing the leftovers onto an empty shelf.

"Right? I discovered it a few weeks ago. I've become a serial customer." Leia closed the drawer on the dishwashing unit and leaned back against the counter. "And, they deliver. Bonus. Although they never have been that quick at the door before."

"Chewie has that effect on delivery guys. They don't especially want to hang around and chat him up."

"It's far more efficient." Leia agreed, smirking. "So, what do you think of Lando's suggestion?"

They had been alone for about an hour, and the air hung heavy with options neither one of them wanted to add their voice to first. Chewie had left when Lando did, giving Han a pointed 'she's not okay and you need to talk to her' look which hadn't escaped Leia's attention. That look had been tossed around a lot over the time she had known them both. It hadn't taken her long to figure out what it meant. She had seen it nearly every day after the destruction of Alderaan and the Yavin battle - not that Han had really known what to do or how to help her and they generally just ended up angry and hostile after he tried - but over the years he had gotten better at it; and for the last while, just seeing it seemed to make things a little bit brighter.

His posture changed, subtly. The grip he had on the cooler handle altered, shoulders pulled back a fraction, and the half shift of his weight sealed it. He was unsure and it made the both uncomfortable.

"Talk to me, please." she probed tentatively.

"I don't know what to do." He replied softly, his back to her, staring into the nearly empty cooler.

_Oh no. _"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure."

"Oh?" Her heart rate spiked and seemed to be trying to beat right out of her chest. _Oh no. Oh no. _

"His… proposal isn't unappealing. But, my concern is you." He turned carefully, shutting the door as he did.

"Me?" Relief flooded her, and she sagged slightly against the solid countertop. They had to get out of this place; it was making her crazy. Insecurities, usually neatly tucked away and locked down, seemed to be forever rearing their ugliness here. He was always gone,_ they had always made sure of that_ \- the dark, vicious part of her soul whispered taunts of loneliness. _Someday_, it would hiss during sleepless lonely nights, _someday, he won't come back for you._ Leia secretly feared that darkness; knew what it was and all at once had no idea what to do with it. _You're right to be afraid. How long can you keep this all in line? What happens when he sees you. Through you. What then? Where will you turn? Who will answer you? _The cloud washed over her again. Frightening and powerful - yet so small at first she couldn't find the source of it. Shut it down, force it out. That had worked in the past. _Enough_! She screamed at the darkness. It hissed again in annoyance; expanded like a bubble inside her heart then, as quickly as it came, receded into nothing once more.

"Would you be happy?"

"Yes." She answered quickly and he smiled, eyes crinkling slightly in worry.

"It's a hard life, Sweetheart. Always moving. You have a routine here, you have a life here. What he's suggesting, what he wants from us, it's not for everyone. Not that we would be at all locked down to it," he added hurriedly, warily. " But... it's not like having a _home_. I'm used to it, it's really all I've known. But..." He paused, looking down at his hands. This was a huge choice. There would be no easy return after this. To throw in the towel and go mercenary - for lack of a better title - was hardly something he had ever visioned for her. She needed a change, yes. A fresh start. But this? How could he bear watching her shrink. She overpowered everything about him, but would he - could he - be enough to keep her grounded - thousands of light-years away from the centre of everything she had bled for? That was a tall order. Not that he wasn't up to it... But... There was always a 'but'.

"Well, for starters, I haven't had a real 'home' since I was 17. I've only ever had you." She let the statement settle for a moment, filling the uneasy, unsure space between them, watched his eyes calm and the thoughts behind them quiet. "Secondly," she continued quietly, stepping towards him slowly, "I can think of worse ways to spend my life. It all sounds wonderful - doesn't it? You and me. Alone. The whole galaxy could be ours. Setting our own schedule. Our own rules." She tweaked an eyebrow slightly at him. He _hated_ rules, mainly on principal - and usually did whatever he could to skirt them. He sat beside her in meetings, when rank and hierarchy dictated he take a place with the other military advisers across the table, offering quiet commentary of smart-ass remarks which made her smile despite herself. He was forever showing up at her office unannounced, keeping her to himself for unaccounted hours in the middle of the day. Kissing her in the hallways of the senate without care for who was around. No wonder they wanted him out of her picture. Better to see her with some stuck up puppet than a smart-ass, shoot-first spacer turned hero. Better for them at least.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" he whispered, voice cracking, smile tugging at the side of his mouth; distracting her from her thoughts. She took another step towards him.

"Maybe." She breathed, now only a hand-span away from him.

"It's working."

"I know. It always does."

He pulled her to him suddenly, holding her hard against the length of him, one arm wrapped low around her waist, the other hand wound at the base of her scalp, tugging gently - pulling her face to meet his.

"Do you want me to take you here?" He whispered darkly against her neck, nipping at her ear. She swallowed hard and gripped his arms.

"Yes."

"On the galley floor?"

"Yes," she breathed shallowly.

"In the middle of the day?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

She swallowed, "yes."

"A nice girl like you." His hands had found their way underneath the hem of her shirt, it was distracting.

"What?" she blinked her eyes open, staring into his.

"Are you sure, Leia?" His mouth stopped a fraction away from hers, his breath was hot and short on her face. She didn't know what they were talking about anymore. She nodded and he kissed her.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you everyone for the reviews - I apologize for my prior hiatus. I don't really have an excuse... R&amp;R please!  
AN: This week is a heavy one - but I hope to have chapter 8 up by Saturday. :) _

* * *

Leia sighed and propped her chin up on Han's chest.

"This is far more comfortable than I expected," she mused.

"It's not bad." he agreed, eyes still closed. "Better than the forward hold on the _Falcon, _that's for damn sure. My knees ached for days after that."

"Well, grated steel decking isn't exactly built for comfort." she smiled, before adding "that was fun though."

"Completely worth it."

"Not to ruin the moment-" Leia said after another moment of contented silence, pushing up slightly so she could see his face more clearly.

"But you're going to."

"I suppose I am." She paused for a split second. "Have you decided what you're going to do."

"You mean, do I want to continue chasing after random warlords for months at a time while I leave you - where? On Kashyyyk with Malla? - so you can wait for me to hopefully come back? Do all of that so you and I can have - by contract - two weeks together before they ship me off somewhere else?"

"...yes?"

"No."

"'No' you haven't thought about it? Or 'no' you've decided you don't want to do that anymore?"

"Leia," He sat up, forcing her to do the same so they ended up sitting nose to nose. "I did it for you."

"Not all for me-"

"Yes. All of it. All for you."

"Oh."

"So, to answer your question: yes. I have thought about it. I have thought about every _single_ day for the last 5 years. I want us. That's all. I don't give a damn about the rest. But you do, and I love you," he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "So before we move on this, before we call them out, we need to draw a solid plan. This won't end today, Leia. Or tomorrow."

"But I resigned."

"I know. But I haven't." She looked down and he continued, voice softer. "All I'm saying is; this could end up being messy. Especially with the Hapens involved - we embarrassed them - all of them. They all thought you would cave and I would run. We proved them wrong, they won't like that. And I doubt they will let us walk out of here with a friendly smile and a 'Thanks for all the hard work and bloodshed - have a nice life'."

"True. When?"

"It has to be today. We can't wait any longer."

Leia sprang up and pulled her sweater over her head, "Okay, Flyboy. Let's move."

**xXx**

"I'm coming with you."

Han sighed. While he actually selfishly wanted her there, he didn't think it was the best idea. He did, however, make the rookie mistake of telling her that and had been trying - unsuccessfully to get her to come around on the notion for the last hour.

"This might not be pretty, Sweetheart. You don't have to go back there." Han watched her fight with her soft travel boots while neatly hopping over the piles of clothing and other personal items they had quickly thrown together. "They've been waiting for a chance to cut me down for years." Ackbar might not be so bad - but Madine, Mothma or worse - that waste of skin, Fey'lya. He didn't want Leia there, fresh from her fight with them yesterday, to watch them rip him apart. Gods knew what they would hurl at him. They would try to have him leave without her. Bully her or perhaps even try to buy him off. The whole thing made his skin crawl, becuase without him, Leia would likely go back to them, and - by extension - accept the Hapen offer. He knew all of that going in. But he had a hard cynical side that Leia didn't, and he loved that about her. Soft-hearted and fragile - but only to half a dozen people who she had let in.

"I highly doubt they are going to 'cut you down'. But yes, I am coming with you." She punctuated each word precisely, as if proper grammar made her completely correct. But then, Han sighed and he watched her chin go up slightly, there was probably not going to be any arguing with her - and what good would that do anyway. "Besides, I can always sit dejected outside the boardroom and look pathetic for a photo-op if they deny me access - which they won't."

"Hardly your style."

"Correction. It never used to be my style. I'm new and improved Leia. Spacer-Leia. Mercenary-Leia. Gods know what _she's_ capably of." She was teasing him, but she was also calling his bluff. He really did want her there beside him. Not tucked away alone and worried for what would likely take hours.

"You're funny." he replied dryly, side-stepping the Spacer-Mercenary comment - she may end up not being too far from the mark.

"I'm coming with you." She stood, finally dressed in front of him, and he knew, with that look in her eyes, there was no arguing. _Fine_. Together.

"You look ready for war." He murmured, standing from the bed and meeting her at the bedroom door.

"Good. I am."

**xXx**

"Leia." The surprised face of Mon Mothma met them as they rounded the corner outside the large boardroom. Leia said nothing, only watched the older woman with narrowed calculated eyes.

"General Solo." Mon turned her head slightly to acknowledge Han's presence, face stoic, eyes shifting carefully between him and Leia, taking in her causal appearance. Leia's hair - while still braided as was customary - now instead of being pinned up, hung loosely, almost, wantonly in one thick plait down the middle of her back. She stood in this place, for the first time since the Liberation ground mission, dressed ready for combat in dark green leggings, black flat leather boots which hugged her calves and a tight fitting black tunic. She looked small. Compact.

_Clever, really,_ Mon thought taking stock of the two people standing in front of her. Han was dressed just as simply, red Bloodstripes blazing down his black trousers, white dress-shirt open one button too many to be appropriate - _as usual_, she noted, annoyed - and a black leather jacket finishing the look. He towered over Leia's petite 5 foot stature, menacing and protective; blaster strapped to his thigh.

_Well played._ The media, who had been camped out in front of the senate foyer for the last two days, would love this. She had to concede, they made a handsome couple. _An inappropriate and ridiculous couple_, Mon hissed to herself, but; still attractive none-the-less.

"Mon." Leia replied, waiting for her would-be-use-to-be friend and mentor, to come to whatever conclusion she wanted.

They were powerful, Leia had made sure of that. Dressed this way, striding carefully through the halls she used to hurry down daily. She matched Han's causal walk as best she could. The walk that use to infuriate her. Like the easy way he handled expensive glassware, or ordered a drink at a fancy bar - as if he alone owned the world and it rotated and existed to suit his every need. She had hated and loved that about him from the first time she witnessed it. Years ago now, on an outer rim world, he has sat back in the bar of the best hotel on the planet, twirling a crystal cut tumbler with little care between his fingers. It had annoyed her; his air of disinterestedness. But she also envied it. She could never been that relaxed. That free.

He had proven that wrong though. Over the years, he had rubbed off on her. Taught her. And she thrived.

So now, here she stood. Ready and unhurried. Gazing at the woman who tried to sell her off not 30 standard hours ago. _Casual_. Leia reminded herself. _Calm and casual. _

"Can I help you two find someone?"

"No. Thank you." Han drifted a hand to the low sway on Leia's back, moving her forward but not controlling her. They had perfected that as well over the years. That tricky social dance of balanced sexual power. The issue of appearing together, equally, without diminishing either's position.

"I really should insist that I escort you - this is highly irregular. I don't approve." Mon said, flustered.

"Well, don't then." Leia replied, a little more snippy than she intended. It didn't matter, after a moment of stunned silence, Mon Mothma fell into step behind them as they traveled into the large back offices - heading straight for Admiral Ackbar's circular office.

Leia breathed in, lightly touching the space around her as Luke had taught her to do. She could hear him in her head - a nice change from the angst and rage which had taken up residence with her soul over the last two days. _'Feel them out, Leia. Know what they are feeling before they do. Anticipate action. You'll always be one step ahead of them.' _Well. No. Leia argued with her brother's voice. It wasn't entirely as easy as all that.

**xXx**

"Leia, my dear. Do you mind giving us a moment?" She didn't answer the large Mon Calamari male in front of her, glancing at Han instead, watching for the small tug at the corner of his month. His tell. Nothing. She nodded and slipped passed him, lightly touching the broad plain of his back as she went.

The door slipped closed quietly behind her and she was left momentarily adrift. Lighting touching back into the room, feeling Han, unhurried and steady, sitting before the large Mon Cal Admiral, Admiral Drayson, General Madine and General Rieekan. They were clearly waiting for a few more members, Han was right - this was going to take hours.

She stood unsure of how exactly to act. Royal manners screamed at her to simple sit and wait. But she had had enough of her 'royal manners' this week, she was too angry for that anyway. Anger was better, she decided and took up a slightly defensive stance to the left of the office entrance. She didn't know what else they might have in reserve, but she was prepared to fight her way out if need be.

**xXx**

Her feet ached. Tension radiated from her. Aides had approached her, familiar faces - even a few friends - and has asked her if she required anything. She would smile and shake her head. She just wanted to go home.

The room on the other side of the door was quiet. _Was that good?_ Surely if no shouting had started and no shots been fired - things were progressing better than Han had predicted.

A shadow moved in front of her.

"Leia. Good afternoon." She didn't trust her voice, so she smiled tightly and nodded.

"I didn't expect to you, again, so soon." Leia tightened her posture, the dark cloud bloomed again in her chest, small, but _there. _

"Well," she cleared her throat quietly, "Lucky you." She smiled sweetly. Borsk Fey'lya had never liked her. And he outright _hated_ Han. That wasn't going to change today, she decided. No matter how this all played out.

"General Solo is with the Admiral and other members of the military council at the moment, an _unscheduled_ visit." Mon's voice came from Leia's left, placing emphasis on 'unscheduled' - as if Han should have known to book an appointment to resign his commission today. They must have been expecting it - either way.

"Ah, yes. Good, we're right on time then. Please excuse us, Princess," he snarled her title at her with a slightly curled lip. "But we have important issues to table."

_We?_

And suddenly, there he was.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

"Princess. You look... lovely."

"Isolder," she nodded politely. _Shit. Shit. Shit._ "Thank you."

"I had hope of running in to you once more before our departure."

"You're leaving? Now?"

"Oh," he let out a controlled laugh, a fake nice laugh, it made her skin crawl - darkness creeping slightly forward, fingers itching for... something. "No, not yet. There are still a few, small matters to attend to." And with that, Borsk moved passed her and triggered the office door open. Leia caught sight of Han, facing the large window, thumbs looped into the pockets of his trousers. _Casual_. She had forgotten - out of practice and still far too raw. His head turned at the movement and he caught her eye, her face white; eyes wide. Then the two men pushed passed her and the door snapped closed.

**xXx**

There was yelling after all.

It hadn't taken long, and it made her even more nervous. _What if? _She wasn't entirely sure what she was worried about - everything? - but she had started pacing when they started shouting.

One standard quarter-hour later, the door hissed open again. She spun around as two men she didn't recognize came out, tailing an angry Hapen prince. The two men continued walking down the long hall - aides most likely, off to gossip about the drama which they had just been privy to - but Isolder stopped less then ten paces from her.

He was slightly taller than Han, and although they were both broad, well built; Han's physique was work earned and hard. Isolder's - while impressive - was privileged, gym derived. It wasn't the same. Leia quickly glimpsed Han and Carlist near the door, Han defensive and angry. Carlist calm and collected. The rest of the council were still all seated, all irritated. The door shut again.

One deep breath and suddenly he was upon her. Launching himself at her, angry and red-faced.

"You're a fool. This is the path you choose?" He bellowed, towering above her.

Leia thought, hoped, that his royal training would rein in any outstanding misplaced rejection. But, standing there, looming over her, intimidating - she quickly decided it would not.

Size had never scared her, but his anger was shocking. She didn't know him - didn't owe him anything. It was hugely misplaced.

"Of course." She refused to be scared. This was her choice, a choice she should have made years ago when Han first suggested it. they should have done it, left one night on board the _Falcon_, left and never looked back. But here they were - better late than never.

"You could have had anything! Anything! Jewels, palaces, status, power. Anything!" He stepped closer to her a grabbed her quite suddenly, hard and angry around the tops of her shoulders. She gasped. Fright starting to seep through.

"That's not enough for me." She answered calmly.

"You would rather be his whore?" He was yelling now, inches from her face. "Trailing around after that space-rat? You disgust me." He shook her once, and she tried to shove him away from her. He wouldn't budge. "Debasing yourself with someone like him. You know, you really aren't any better than a common port-slut." With that, he threw her back, she fell half a step and let the cloud wrap around her, masking her fright. His anger fed into her, swirling around inside her heart. Bold and slightly terrifying. She was about to respond, but all at once, three things happened:

She hadn't heard the office suite's door open.

Two large, familiar hands settled quickly on her shoulders, moving her aside.

And quite suddenly, she was looking down at the surprised, bloodied face of the Hapan Prince, belatedly raising his arms up to block the fresh assault levied at him by he owner of those two, strong hands.

Leia watched, rooted to the spot, unable to do anything more than watch the drama unfolding in front of her.

**xXx**

Han hissed as she gently pressed the cold compress to his right eyebrow.

It wasn't bad, a grazing blow at best, but punctuated by a ring or perhaps a loose fastening on a jacket, it was hard to say for sure.

She had been silent as they were escorted out of the Senate building, giving a small sideways smile to the reporters and holo-drones as they went by. She had stayed silent through the entire taxi-ride back to their apartment. And had yet to say anything still, as she held the soft wet bundle to the side of his face. Han set his jaw stubbornly. He wasn't going to apologize for that, he regretted not killing the bastard. Port-slut. He balled his fists again, the skin on them slightly agitated. It had been years since he was in a good fight.

"Thank you." She murmured quietly. Han's good left eye opened, surprised, lost in his own head. Usually, fighting was one of Leia's strict no-no's. "For getting us thrown out? Nah, you don't need to. I'm good at that."

She smiled at his attempt to lighten the situation. The afternoon had disintegrated very quickly after Han had landed a good dozen blows. Security called and words exchanged. It was heated and surreal. No one had ever physically _fought_ for her before, not in the lower-level, back-alley brawl kind of way Han had just done.

"For defending me. Thank you."

He didn't say anything, he simply reached out and traced her cheekbone softly.

"I've never had anyone actually fight for my honour before." She teased lightly, leaning into his touch.

"Well, not right in front of you, you haven't." He corrected. Leia tilted her head at him, questioning. "I have been fighting for you for years, Leia. I'll never stop." This was news. She never expected or even considered that to be a possibility. Of course he had hated the backstabbing and underhanded comments leveled at her - and himself - but actually coming to blows over it? No, she hadn't considered that.

"But, on the brightside," he pulled the compress away and tossed it on the side table where it made a distinctive slopping sound. "I did manage to resign before they tossed us out. That's gotta count for somethin'."


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you everyone for the reviews - I'm so addicted to them! R&amp;R please!_

_AN: Chapter 9 up by next Sunday (hopefully). :)_

* * *

His head pounded, hammering in time with his heart - which had, thankfully, calmed down substantially since the afternoon. Every single muscle ached. But he that didn't mind; it was a satisfying, deep muscle, just-knocked-some-asshole's-teeth-out kind of ache.

He had volunteered to take the first load to the Falcon. Mainly so Leia didn't have to face the scads of reporters - but he also needed an excuse to be alone for a while; re-group and at least try to come down from the anger-high he had been riding for the last two hours.

Bruising had bloomed across her white shoulders, and while not deep - they would be healed and gone by the end of tomorrow - the sight of them made him want to start a war. How dare he touch her - much less hurt her.

Han seethed, teeth grinding together. Leia had rubbed bacta on the marks as soon as they got home, brushing it off in hopes of cooling him off sooner. It hadn't worked. His fist balled tightly again. The physical marks would heal, she was right - but the verbal attack on her would linger. The vile words that pathetic excuse for a man had angrily spewed at her would dance across her mind without warning. She would hear them hissed at her in meetings, they would claw at her brain while he made love to her. Those kind of scars took the longest to heal. She had far too many of those scars as it was.

Vader still haunted her nights, sending her curling tightly up around him; huddled against the pain and terror that monster had inflicted onto her. He had woken her up from enough painful heart wrenching night-terrors to know the threats leveled against her during her incarceration. All manner of horrible futures were thrown at her. Death, work-camp slavery, lobotomization, forced containment at one of the low level pleasure camps strewn across the Imperial sector, disfigurement, isolation. The list was horrific and endless.

The humiliation she suffered at the hands of Jabba and his court had hurt her too. The kriffing sack of slime had marked up her neck with that fucking collar - the bruises had lasted for days.

And now this. All personal types of pain.

At least, this time it wasn't exactly his fault - not like the incident with Jabba had been. This time he had somewhere to direct his raging anger, somewhere besides himself and Lando.

The apartment foyer had been a zoo. A maze of faces and species all asking the same questions "Can you tell us what happened between you and the Hapen Prince?!" "Where's the Princess?" "General Solo! Did you resign?" "What are you going to do now?" All the same. He gave a tight smile and pushed his way through.

Closing and securing the hatch, he dumped the bags in the crew cabin and stalked off to the cockpit. He had - without knowing it - always taken the Falcon for granted. She was an escape. Something Leia hadn't ever had. Freedom.

He ran his right hand over the controls while studying it critically. The skin was broken in small tiny rips from the action he had caused this afternoon. It didn't matter, it didn't bother him.

Isolder was feeling a hell of a lot worse - and that's all that mattered.

His fist curled inadvertently. No. That wasn't true. That wasn't all that mattered. It had been a snap decision, one he didn't remember making. Raised tones from outside the meeting room had caught his attention. A one-sided fight.

'Whore'

That single word stopped the chatter in the large meeting and made him had reached the door in three long strides. Han's blood sang through his veins. Angry. The prince's hands were on her, hard and crushing before throwing her away like common garbage.

'Port-slut'

His brain had stopped working after that. Solely focused.

He flex his hand again in memory and without thinking punched a code into the comm-system.

"Hello again," the amused voice of Luke came over the comm.

"Never a dull moment." Han agreed, focused on clenching his fist.

"I hear you ran into Isolder..."

"I did."

"Quite a few times." Luke chuckled quietly.

"You could say that." Han finally smiled, the Kid always seemed to have a way of making him feel better.

"Good."

"I should have ripped him apart with my bare hands. Bastard."

"Han-" han rolled his eyes. Yes yes, violence is of the darkside, blah blah blah.

"Has this happened before?"

"What? Having the Council try to sell her off? I don't think so, not for a while at least."

"No, I mean, has anyone ever attacked her like that - because of me - before."

"Han, you should be asking Leia about this-"

"Well, I'm not. I'm asking you."

"I know that it hasn't always been easy for her. She's fought very hard for you, and they don't always like it..."

"Right."

"Look, she wouldn't have wanted you to know, if she's never said anything before..." Luke trailed off.

"I know." He leaned back and kicked his feet up on the controls. She wouldn't. Luke was right. She would much rather swallow the insults down and lock them away, instead of sharing them and hurting him with them. She was always far too protective of him. He had heard the insults - some of them anyway - over the years. Most of them before they were together, when people still felt safe to hurt her around him. His jaw tightened. the Ice-Princess. That was a classic favourite. Cold and hard. That's how everyone thought of her then. Now, the common opinion seemed to be that instead of a born leader, a tough fighter and an all-round amazing human being, people saw her relationship with him and tagged her as a naive young girl. That may have been worse. The, of course, there was the damage he had inflicted before he allowed himself to think of someone other than his own ego. He had hurled his own brand of verbal artillery at her as well. Always pushing. Forever testing her, fighting. Always keeping her on edge, only after did he know that his fight for her was really just worried over what would happen to her if she suddenly stopped fighting back.

Han let out a sigh and signed off with Luke. His brain wouldn't shut off. Leia hadn't seemed all that upset by the insults, at least, not entirely surprised by them. Had this been going on without him knowing. Had they started to hurt her because of him?

**xXx**

The cockpit door slide open, startling him. He spun around to find the calm, quiet face of Leia in the entrance. Lost in his own thoughts as he had been, he hadn't noticed the hatch light blinking on the console, hadn't hear this his of the ramp lowering or her soft footsteps down the hall.

"You've been gone a long time," she said quietly, settling herself between his legs, leaning slightly back on the console.

"Have I?" He took her hand, running his thumb lightly over her knuckles. She hummed in agreement and sighed. They stayed like that for a long while, just being.

"When can we leave?" She broke the silence, eyes closed.

"Now."

"Really?" sitting up moved closer to him, he pulled her slowly, fluidly onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her.

"Sure - we're packed. Just a few more loads down and..." he let the sentence hang in front of them. "Are you ready to leave?" He asked when she hadn't replied.

"Sure."

"Now?"

That made her smile. "Well, no - I still have my hair-dryer at the apartment and I need to say goodbye to Winter properly before we go. But after that, yes. Very, very ready. I can't wait to never come here again."

"How long have you lived here?" he asked suddenly.

"All together? Five years, give or take. Why?"

"And in all that time, how much of the city have you actually seen?"

She raised her eyebrows and gestured limply around the hanger in front of them.

"Exactly." Han sighed.

"I've been busy in case you haven't noticed!"

"Oh I noticed."

She said nothing, only turned to look at him sideways.

"Okay, so before we blast off here and never come back - I think you should actually experience Coruscant a little."

She made a face and leaned away from him, the hanger was emptying for the day, mechanics, porters and pilots all filtering out for the night, heading home to children, spouses, parents and friends. Each with somewhere more important to be than the long-term hanger of the New Republic navy. Everyone except the two of them.

"Experience what?" she finally asked, voice small in the quiet space.

"Exactly. You've never gone skiing at the poles, you probably haven't gone down more than a couple levels, or eaten interplanetary street-food on the curb watching buskers. You've never seen the city, never loosened up a enough to enjoy it."

"That's not fair! I went with you down - what was that, eleven levels! - to that jazz club for drinks and then we went dancing. We had fun!"

"Once. We did that once."

"You're never here either," she said, a tad more defensively than she intended.

"You hate this planet."

"What exactly are you getting at."

"There's so much life here. You've only ever seen the inside of the senate, our horrible apartment, a few ballrooms - which all look the same anyway - this hanger and a landing pad or two. That's no way to live. You can't hate something you've actually never truly experienced."

"Not true - you can."

"Leia-"

"You're never here." She repeated quietly. "I'm always by myself."

"I'm here now, and I'm not leaving you by yourself again."

"So what are you saying? You want to go out?"

"Ya," he gently traced the curve of her neck. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

**xXx**

The bar he had in mind was several levels below her comfort level. Damp and thick with the smell of fake sunlight and too many beings living in the same space, there was a wonderful freedom of not being important down here - they were simply a couple out for the night. Leia stood tall beside him, thin heels bringing her up a good six inches, a close fitting short black dress, her hair done up in a dramatically messy bun on the nape of her neck. She had hand tucked brazenly into his back pocket riding the lift down, and just when Han was rethinking his whole 'going out for the night' plan, they had arrived at their district.

Smoke swam in the doorway, curling and dancing with the slight air currents which still somehow made it down this far.

"Reminds me of the Rim," Leia remarked quietly as she watched Han survey the scene in front of them. "Anonymity, booze, dancing and a dress which would make my aunts faint."

Han laughed at that, yes -it was very much like the Rim worlds. Too many beings, too loud of music and freely flowing bar. He'd always like those assignments, they had always snuck off at least once to enjoy themselves, and she always wore something like the dress she was currently clad in. Something indecently short, tight and un-Princess like.

"Is it just you and me?" she asked, watching his eyes roam the room, looking for a quiet darkened corner to tuck her into.

"That's the plan." he replied, sliding his hand very low on her back and ushering her forward to the back of the room. She slide easily into the booth, han followed her, flagging a serving droid down and ordering two whiskeys.

"Good." she nipped his ear, startling him. He caught her lightly at the side of her neck, she tilted her head slightly as he ran a thumb down her throat. "Naughty." He murmured, loving the way her eyes sharpened at those words. "I'll haul you right back to the Falcon if you do that again. And, I have plans."

"Do they end with us at the Falcon?" she whispered again, deliberately catching the eye of the serving girl who stopped to drop off their drinks on the table, she smiled slightly when the young girl turned away quickly embarrassing for being caught lingering on Han for a moment too long.

"Sweetheart, all of my plans end up with us on the Falcon," he winked at her and kissed her slowly before pulling back a notch to look at her. "Hungry?"

**xXx**

Dinner arrived without ceremony, but it was delicious. Another two drinks down and she was having a lovely time, the day's earlier events forgotten - or at least tucked away into the background for the time being.

"Lando called in while you were at the hanger, did he get a hold of you?" Leia asked between bites.

"No. I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"I have a few concerns, I was thinking about it this afternoon."

"So do I. What are yours?"

"We don't know anything about Karrde. I don't relish the idea of becoming involved in the next Black Sun operative." Leia quietly stated, keeping her voice low but not whispering, whispering was the best way to ensure an audience.

Well, I've known Lando a long time. He's not stupid. And he's not reckless either. He's a businessman."

"Do you trust him." She asked, dark makeup accentuated her already delicate appearance, exaggerating the whites of her already wide eyes.

Han stopped short, mid-chew, and turned fully to face her. Did he trust Lando? Had anyone else asked him that question,his first instinct would have been to immediately brush it off with a casual gesture - of course he did. But he looked at the woman sitting beside him, the same woman who had asked him the same question nearly six years ago. They hadn't really had a choice then - stranded as they were. With no other option, they had limped to whatever port was closest, in in that decision - he had sealed fate for both of them. But, here they were again.

"I trust him with myself. I don't really trust anyone with you." he replied quietly, serious. She smiled softly at that, she half expected his answer. Han had only ever truly trusted her safety to himself or Chewie. It was endearing. But that didn't answer her burning question.

"I trust you." She whispered.

"I love you."

"I want to go home."

"No dancing?" he smirked.

"No. Home. Now."

He held her eyes. Dancing be damned, he grasped her hand and pulled her to him, kissed her neck and slid with her out of the booth, tossing credits to the server as they passed.

They fell into the lift, commandeering a corner as he pressed her hard up against the shabby metal interior. His hands gathered her hair, holding her mouth to his. Her hands wandered up and down his frame, feeling her way across him.

The door pinged and his pressed his forehead to hers.

"Leia." he breathed reverently, his mouth finding her once more. She pushed against him, hands firmly on his chest.

"Come on, Hot Shot. Get me home."

**xXx**

Clothes were still scattered across the main hold, when Lando stopped by the Falcon mid-morning the next day. The conversation had been going fairly well, that was until the first set of contacts were handed over.

"Are you spiced!? We're not doing that!" Leia stabbed an angry finger at the screen.

"Leia hang on a second-"

"NO! You hang on a second! You really think that after what happened to the both of us the LAST time we ended up in Hutt company that we would consider going there?"

"It won't be like that." Lando assured her.

"No."

"Trust me."

"No. Not with this."

"Can I talk you alone for a moment?" Lando turned to Han, exasperated.

"Talk all you want - the answer is still no." She pointed at their visitor, stood, quirked a brow and stepped over the dress which lay on the floor by their feet. Some women, Han mused, might have found it difficult to be snippy and commanding while her clothes from last night still lay strewn across the living space. But not Leia. Standing dwarfed by a pair of his old sleep pants and a tight camisole, she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Feisty." Lando said under his breath when Leia disappeared down the hallway.

"Very. But she's right."

"Hey-"

"You heard her. No."

"You two would be perfect for this."

"Maybe, but I'm not risking her."

Lando sighed and shook his head.

"What?" Han leaned back and kicked his feet up onto the seat beside him.

"You don't think the rest of what you're both doing isn't risky? I'm surprised they haven't tried to off you yet. Hapens are a nasty crowd."

"Honestly? So am I. We need to get off this rock, and fast. But I'm not trading one headache for another. If you want us to help you set up a network, that's great - we can do that all day long. But…"

"Yeah, alright. I'll look at and get back to you. How long are you planetside?" Lando stood and Han walked him to the ramp, leaning one arm out against the bulkhead.

"End of the month at the latest."

"I'm still having that party tomorrow night. You two should come."

"We'll be there."

"Good." Lando started down the ramp and turned swifty. "Han!"

"Yeah?"

"I wouldn't risk her either, Buddy. I'll think so something."

Han nodded and his friend smiled. Maybe he wouldn't, but that wasn't something Han was prepared to trust either.


	9. Chapter 9

_I can't decide if I hate Mon Mothma, let's see what she has to say for herself, shall we?_

* * *

"This, I was not expecting."

If the media had been hungry for the princess and the ex-smuggler before, they were nothing short of ravenous now.

In the span of two days, public interest had spiked to an all-time unprecedented high. Photos of the pair now littered the media waves in hundreds of languages across thousands of networks. Viewer submitted pictures, public event captures, private shots of the pair together with friends and family - Gods knew how those had leaked. They were everywhere.

Her companion nodded mutely in agreement, standing before the main holo projector on the presidential floor of the senate building.

"She looks like a common prostitute." He hissed, fist connecting with the console, freezing the image of Leia on the holoscreen - or rather a series of images taken two nights ago by a surveillance camera far too many levels down to be considered socially acceptable. It featured the princess, clad in a tight, short dress, being pushed hungrily up against the back of the lift, Solo's body pressed tight against hers - his hands wound in her hair. The photos were powerful and seductive; voyeuristic in character. They were something Mon was certain Leia should be ashamed of but was also equally certain she wouldn't be. Not anymore. Public opinion had stayed overwhelmingly on the lovers side - and if this building hysteria was anything to go off of, it was guaranteed to stay there for quite some time.

Thankfully, the news had stayed fairly light on the Hapen end, the less focus there was on that, the better. They were still 'negotiating' with the Cluster, but everyone on Council had to admit the unpleasantness between the Hapen Prince and the galaxy's favourite power couple had soured the potential deal considerably. The altercation itself hadn't been leaked yet - but one look at Isolder's face and everyone would be able to guess at what had happened.

Leia's office had issued one statement the day of her departure. Solo had publicly said nothing. Normally, Mon sighed to herself, interest would die off quickly, but it seemed the opposite to be true in this case. No news seemed to ignite more news.

"They certainly do love her," she watched the numerous smiling candid photos slide across the screen. "Them." She corrected herself.

Madine made a noncommittal noise.

"She looks happy." Mon whispered, almost to herself.

Madine turned to her, shocked.

"Happy?" He repeated, "You think that is happy? Behaving that way with him? Exposing herself to all of this." He waved an angry hand at the frozen image. "He will leave her. A man like Solo cannot be pegged down. This will all blow over - I give it three months. And then what? Her reputation will not survive this charade. She'll be ruined."

"She's so young, I forget sometimes."

"She's impressionable and he's," Madine had an exasperated gesture with his hand. "We tolerated this dalliance with Solo as best we could, a wartime romance which has - I think we can all agree - run it's course."

Mon nodded, still watching the images in front of her, the young, happy, carefree couple

"I will not deny that he has been… helpful to us. He's a natural leader, a good military mind. Reckless and brave - good qualities in a soldier. Not, however, suited to be the consort a high ranking senatorial candidate - much less the last of a noble, old Royal House. Her father - her entire family - would not approve." Madine contunied.

"Leia was right, Crix." She interrupted. "Bail would have only ever wanted her to be happy. He loved her and," she paused gently unfreezing the screen in front of them again, eyes tracing the smile on the young princess's face - taken the last time Solo was back on leave - her head tilted towards him. Eyes shining. "It's true. She doesn't have a family anymore. Not a traditional one. She has General - Captain - Solo," She corrected herself quickly, sensing her companion stiffen beside her at the incorrect title. " and Luke. That's her family." Mon turned toward General Madine, watched him stare daggers at the newscast for another moment before continuing quietly. "I don't know anymore. Maybe we were wrong. Maybe this is what's best for her. In any case, we've lost them both. This isn't our concern anymore." Truth was, Mon felt horrid. Blinded as she was to 'what was best' for everyone, she had been willing to toss away and trample on what might actually be best for her young friend.

"This is not the first time he has come between us and what is best for her. There has to be a way to separate them, make her see sense. Make him realize what this will cost her."

"Do you truly believe it's worth it, to attempt to separate them, after all of this?"

"Do you not?"

"He loves her, Crix. It's done."

"Is it." It wasn't a question, yet it hung, suspended between them as they turned their attention back to the screen.

**xXx**

"I haven't been to a party like that in..." Leia sat curled up on one of Lando's large kitchen chairs, cradling a cup of caf between her hands. "Well, actually... I don't think I've ever been to a party like that."

"The Liberation was quite the party." Han leaned back against the counter, relishing in the look of her relaxed for the first time in days, dressed comfortably in his old sweatshirt - one she had taken possession of years ago, before they were together - and a pair of light leggings. She looked so young. He often forgot just how young she was. Luke had always been young, idealistic. Leia was different. Determined, stubborn and guarded. She had carefully constructed barriers which wrapped and tangled around herself. Permanent and opposing, they had been there, taunting him for years until he finally managed to figure out how to unwind them. Leia had rules she lived by and expected other to do the same - even now. Luke didn't. He had a fresh-faced, hopeful, happy way of looking at life. Leia's walls protected her.

Han had always know that they were the same age. But Luke was, and likely always would be, a kid compared to his sister.

Leia had never been a 'kid'. And for that, Han was entirely grateful.

Lando's party had in fact been a great one; loud and crowded enough to be intimate. A few old friends he had lost touch with over the years he had been with the Rebellion, it had all seemed slightly surreal to tuck Leia under his arm and mingle. She fit as though she was designed to belong there. No carefully detailed approach to the evening. Just them. It was refreshing. Leia, for her part, had felt a slab of guilt at the beginning of the night, from her happy vantage point tucked in beside Han, these were friends of his - good friends - which he had given up for her and her life. She had unknowingly pulled him away from people he had cared about. The feeling had subsided halfway through the night as she mingled with him, working the crowd. It had been nice, she smiled into her glass as she watched him watch her, to simply be 'Leia'. She could get use to it - and by the look of things, she might be able to.

"And as I remember - you had quite the time." he smirked at her. _Yes, yes she did. _She had been hungover the entire next day, skin marked up so badly by his nips and love-bites that she had been forced to use up her entire personal supply of bacta gel before venturing out at all.

"Yes. Although," she took a sip of her drink, "I don't remember it being quite so.."

"No. Different crowd." Han laughed, he didn't need her finish that sentence, he knew exactly what she meant.

"I like them."

"You sure? They're a little rough." He half warned.

"I can handle myself. And you. But I mean it; I like your friends." She added.

"Good. I think we should nose around a bit more - maybe take a couple weeks 'off' and see what we can dig up on this Karrde guy."

"Where are you thinking we should start? There seems to be a lot of different opinions out there."

"Not sure, I have a few places in mind - depends how long you want to disappear for."

Leia shrugged and handed him her mug to refill. "I have no where else to be."

"We need a hub."

"Ord Mantel?" She asked when he handed it back to her, noting the hesitation in her own voice. The last time they had been there had ended badly. Very badly. But, she took a breath inhaling the hot steam, that was another lifetime ago, a different lifetime. Just because something bad had happened there the last time - she shuddered inwardly against the memory of that horrible botched mission - didn't mean history was bound to repeat itself. Bounty hunter days were behind them - at least for the moment. Leia shuddered again.

"To start, maybe." Han had moved to the chair beside her.

"Ithor is good for intel."

"very political right now though - something you will have to learn to what to avoid." He smirked at her, and she shot him a faux irritated glare.

"But it's a good place to learn about what's going on." she countered.

"So is Nar Shaddaa, but..." He trailed off, worry clouding his eyes.

"I've never been there. Sounds like fun. Could run into a few ex-girlfriends of yours, I'm sure they have all kinds of stories to share." She teased lightly trying to sway the quickly darkening mood.

"Could be." he replied softly as she lightly traced the scar on his chin with her thumb.

"Leia-"

"It'll be fine. Trust me." Her quiet words pounded against the inside of his mind. Haunting him. Damn.

"Well. If it isn't the most popular couple in the galaxy. Good morning, Leia. You look lovely."

Han scowled at his friend and straightened up. Scowling - or any form of annoyance typically just encouraged a triumphant grin and more flirting, but Han couldn't help it.

"Thank you, good morning. I made caf - I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. You do look lovely in my kitchen in the morning - I could get use to this."

"You should try the caf before you make statements like that." She pointed out.

"Did you happen to talk to Wyn last night?" Lando turned to Han, who was still scowling at him.

"I did."

"And?"

"What did you say to him?"

"Nothing."

"What did you say!" Han repeated, anger creeping into his voice.

"Here, sit down." Leia intervened, offering their host her seat and sliding around the back of Han's chair, hands winding down his shoulders and across his chest. He glanced quickly back to her and smiled knowingly. Arguing was apparently back on the no-no list. Han looked across to Lando, jaw set.

"I may have mentioned you were bored and looking for something to take the edge off."

"I'm not bored. And" he pointed an accusatory finger at his friend. "I don't need to 'take the edge off' anything. Work, Lando. That's what I - we," he caught himself, "want. I am not interesting is dragging Leia all over the galaxy chasing laser brained deals for that idiot."

"You asked for my help."

"No. I asked you if you needed any help - that's different."

"Now, I'm still rather new to this 'mercenary' thing," Leia said, effectively taking command of the conversation before it led to something stronger. "But chasing some random lead from a random man to an unknown destination for an indeterminable amount of time doesn't really seem like the best way to start out."

"Well. Look who isn't just ornamental." A high pitched voice startled them all from the galley entrance. The blond woman who had been hanging on Lando during that party - _And apparently during the night, _Leia thought ungraciously before she could stop herself - strutted into the kitchen, clad in nothing except a long shelve tshirt of Lando's which grazed her mid-thigh. She made a show of kissing Lando first and then tossed Han a slutty smile and rolled her hips a little more than was necessary while passing the table. She spun and crossed one ankle seductively over the over, leaning against the counter. Smugly grinning at Leia - obviously empowered by the comfortable quietness of the princess's appearance; sitting in stark contrast to her own current state of near-undress.

_Shut it down._ Leia's darkness bloomed and retracted._ Stupid bitch. Ornamental? Ironic. _

"Oh," Leia laughed, once. A short targeted laugh. It made her slightly nervous, the edge behind it. But there was power in it as well, and she let that roll across her instead. "I've never been _ornamental_." There it was. A threat. Everyone heard it - the galley stilled. The blond swallowed and tugged at the bottom hem of her shirt, suddenly uncomfortable . Lando's smile widen fractionally - was Han though who had caught her entire attention. Eyes narrowed and darkened slightly, stance changed. He was turned on. He was hers.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Yes, she could handle herself. And him.

It was time to move. Things were about to get interesting again.


	10. Chapter 10

_No spoilers here but - I saw TFA last night. All in all, I liked it; such a great ride. I was expecting what happened - you know - and while it saddens me, I understand the need for it, both from a "move the story along" and a real world practical perspective. I'm excited to see where the story goes - so much potential. Anyway, I won't say anymore about it - not just yet at least. It was fun. Well done, JJ. Loveable, funny, touching and deep. TFA doesn't spoon-feed you the story, or what the characters have been up to in the last 20 so years, or even who they are - you have to do a bit of searching and piecing together for yourself. I think there is a lot more to this story than what was handed out to us in Ep7. At least - I hope there is for everyone's sake. _

_Personally, I'm choosing to look at this story arch as a "choose your own adventure" type thing, and while it's not the story line I will be "choosing" (I'm sticking with this Universe - like it or not), I appreciate it. Now, on with my happy little world!_  
_xox_

_AN: I intended this to be longer and more complicated, but TFA has kicked my ass today, I'm so tired and emotionally drained. I need a glass of wine and some tumblr posts. _

* * *

The air outside was warm - unusual for this late in the third season. It hung around him; still and silent with a hint of sweet grass.

Luke sat on the small balcony facing the city, eyes closed. He breathed deeply; a slow and steady rhythm. The greenery under him leaving small imprints in his skin.

The suite's thick carpeted balcony of sweet Borleias grass had been Leia's idea. Something organic and clean. Leia loved grass - had grown up surrounded by it.

Loved it and missed it. Such vegetation an impossible luxury on his dry, arid homeworld, Leia had made a well argued case for his need to be grounded, to have something natural in his life to centre him in between all the duracrete and metal and imitation on the capitol city. She argued grass would help him meditate and find his peace.

Looking back it was perhaps a selfish request on her part; as he would typically find her - especially if Han was off-world on assignment - sitting alone, eyes closed, hands running across the soft blades, toying with them between her fingers, twisting the small spines unto loose curls. And all the while she would hum a tuneless, meandering melody. He never dared ask her what it was; content to simply let her sit there and feel at home for a while.

Han never really understood Leia's obsession with grass. Having grown up in space, grass was never something he longed for. Space and sky. Limitless possibilities, that's what his friend hunted. Leia chased home. And the beautiful possibilities which went hand in hand with the desire to be grounded to something, someone. Perhaps they both chased that, his sister and his friend, in their own way. Together they both grounded each other and allowed the freedom to be completely boundless.

Luke envied them. He always had. Now, of course, differently. He envied their closeness. He longed for the kind of partner they had found in each other.

He sighed and closed his eyes, in vain effort to pull away from the self misery of loneliness welling up inside of him.

He was so easily distracted these days.

Finding his focusing shifting further and further outside of himself.

Breathing deep he focused on the steady rhythmic pulsing of his heart.

_Leia._

His attention snapped again.

Irrational anger and a brief stab of fear pierced through him._ Leia!_

His sister was usually guarded, protective of her emotions, hard to read and even harder to gauge. The last three days had taken it's toll on her and it was starting to fray that unscratchable demeanor.

The surface rippled again.

Leia had found a tentative peace with her lineage over the last few years. Or so he thought. She never spoke of it. He had tried, of course, for a while to get her to come to terms with who they were, what that meant. He had wanted her to start engaging, inquiring and she hadn't responded to that, he pushed harder, demanding that she learn, even if only to protect herself from what she feared. He wanted to teach her and felt she should want to learn. That plan had backfired and landed him on Han's defensive side. It was a side of his best friend he had seen before, but seeing it and being on the receiving end of it were two very different things. The ferocity by which Han protected Leia from him was shocking. It had rocked him and it had taken him a great deal of apologizing and back-peddling to get back inside their little world again.

Fear zinged once more through his veins before settling uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach.

Luke uncrossed his legs and stretched out. Meditating was clearing off the agenda, he needed to focus on his small family. They were so important to him, and they were hurting. Leia's hasty resignation from the New Republic and Han's subsequent departure from the Navy had what seemed like the whole galaxy in an up-rawr. But the Han Solo who had called him earlier was worried - that in itself was worth being concerned about. He pushed himself up and passed quietly through the door, resting a hand lightly on R2's domed top as he passed. The droid tweeted and sang to life, emitting a series of pops and beeps.

"We'll go down to the hanger later, Artoo. I need to call Leia."

Artoo's happy, plucky beeping sang behind him and he walked quickly towards the comm and punched a series of codes. He needed to help her. She was starting to loose herself.

**xXx**

"Leia." The familiar soft spoken voice interrupted her quiet tinkering. She straighten; coolant leak forgotten for the moment, dripping at an agonizingly slow pace onto the landing pad - pooling in a small puddle, tinted a faint blue, at her feet.

"Mon." She didn't turn on purpose, instead watching the hull of the _Falcon_, tracing the patchwork of metal, finding abstract patterns in the multitude of small scrapes and score lines marring the finish.

"I came to," Mon Mothma paused uncomfortably for a moment, and cleared her throat quietly. "To wish you well in your travels."

"Oh."

"Both of you." She added quickly.

"That's very kind. Thank you."

"Leia-"

"Everything okay?" Han's concerned voice came from behind them both.

"Captain Solo, hello. Yes, I just came by to wish you both well before you leave." Mon hastily answered. Leia turned, mildly surprised by her forced light tone and met Han's eyes as he stood tall behind her use-to-be mentor and friend.

Han watched Leia straighten, her chin raising slightly in that adorable haughty way it always did. She looked every ounce the royal pain in the ass he had rescued off the first Death Star seven years ago. Except now she was different. Now, she was his. A streak of coolant line degreaser blazed across the right side of her chin and down both forearms. The sight of her working on his beloved ship broke his heart. He _loved_ her. He would catch himself watching her sometimes; happy to just watch her be normal.

Be free.

He loved her like that, the real Leia, the one only he got to witness. The Leia who mumbled to herself while reading briefing notes for an upcoming meeting, rolling her eyes and chewing on her lower lip as she jotted notes in the margins of reports. Or cursed loudly when she thought she was alone, laying on her back on the floor of the maintenance hatch for the _Falcon, _banging on an electrical conduit with a hammer, because she said she could do it herself, and she would rather lay there for hours angry and exhausted than admit she couldn't undo the coupling. Or like she was at this moment, standing in front of a woman she had known and respected all her life with grease from a smuggling ship streaking across her fair skin and utility belt slung attractively low across her hips. She was a force to be reckoned with. And Mon Mothma knew it.

He had liked Mon, sort of. He understood her at least. Appreciated her tenacity. He didn't like that he liked her. But he did. When he had first met her, he had expected to want to like her. Expected her to be a lot like Leia. And perhaps she would have been - had worry, responsibility and the tremendous weight of leadership not pressed on her shoulders for so long. Perhaps, Han reflected watching the two women carefully in front of him. the real issue was he pitied her, and she knew it.

A deep pinging noise shot through the air, making Leia jump. Han half tuned and grabbed her commlink from the crates beside him and handed it to her, coming to stand beside her, tucking her into himself.

"Luke?"

Han couldn't make out the other half of the conversation. Only watched worryingly as Leia's eyes narrowed and darkened.

"I'm fine. Yes really. We're packing up the _Falcon_. I thought you were coming down."

More mumbling. Han lifted his brows at her in question, half turning to place himself between her and Mon.

"I'm not discussing this with you, not now. Not ever."

She wouldn't meet his gaze, instead staring straight ahead as if trying to bore holes through the hull with her eyes.

"Well, come or don't come, then. I'm not sure what you want me to say to that... Yes I know you are. Yes. I know. But I told you to leave it. Luke, please." she turned to half lean into him. "Sure... Right... Sounds fine. No, really that would be great."

He kissed the top of her head.

"See you then." She clicked the small device closed and quirked a brow at him.

"Luke's coming down to help us finish load up." She then turned to Mon Mothma who was standing stock still, watching them.

"Thank you for coming down. I'm sure we'll meet again. Somewhere. Now, if you will excuse us, we have a lot to finish."

"Yes of course. Good bye, Princess, Captain."

Han nodded at her and smiled tightly as the older woman turned to take her leave.

"Leia." She turned quickly when she stepped off the pad, "I'm sorry."


	11. Chapter 11

_I've been aimlessly wandering around the house for the last five days. I saw it again Sunday night. I don't know.  
I go from being angry (very very angry) that Disney and JJ could hurt people I care about to then being overcome by grief.  
__Tumblr is emotional cutting at it's best. I can't handle watching Empire Strikes Back yet. I got through New Hope on Friday, that was rough._

_OH OH! Also, where the f* are Han's bloodstripes in TFA!? WHY ISN'T HE WEARING THEM! AHHHH! My brain is melting with unanswered questions!_

_Anyway, here we are. We get a bit darker after this. Fair warning. _

* * *

"Did she just say 'sorry'?" Han stood pointing incredulously at Mon Mothma's retreating form.

"I think so." Leia squinted.

"Huh. Sorry for what?"

"Exactly." Her jaw twitched. Reaching around to her utility belt, she pulled out a small spanner and turned back to the _Falcon's_ hull. She felt Han stride up beside her and shifted her eyes slightly to watch his tall frame duck down underneath where she was tinkering.

"What are you working on?" He asked after a moment.

"The coolant is leaking. I don't know why."

"Did you run the line?" He traced the blue tinted mess streaking the outside of the ship with his thumb.

"I was just about to." Leia answered quietly, distracted by his hands running over the metal in front of her face. She loved those hands.

"Here, I'll do that," he took the spanner from her gently, shaking her out of her thoughts. "You go call Luke back."

"But I don't-"

"I know. But we're leaving first thing tomorrow, Sweetheart."

Leia stood watching Han's back as he turned away from her, focusing on his crotchety ship instead; giving her time to heal the only family she had left.

"I'll be inside." She said quietly.

Her boots padded softly up the lowered ramp, she didn't know what to say to Luke.

She wanted, on some level, to tell him about her fears, about the darkness which bloomed suddenly in her heart, whispering to her. But, if she did that, would he ever really truly look at her the same way again?

Perhaps she had been with Han too long. Maybe he was rubbing off on her more than she realized - but then again, Leia argued with herself as she pressed the door shut in the cockpit and settled down into the pilot chair - she had always been a 'solve your own problems' kind of person, so why should this be any different? _Because you know exactly what you are dealing with_, her heart worried back for her. She did too. She felt it. These days more than ever. _Why_? She didn't know. Perhaps it had always been there; hidden, lurking in the background of her soul. Darkness. A power waiting to be touched, let free, utilized. Used.

She had felt it first standing before the funeral pyre on Endor.

The pyre which Luke had built.

The final resting place of Darth Vader.

Luke had found peace standing before the fire, watching the flames lick and dance into the night. He had claimed to have found solace in the fact that he believed the blackened body resting there was that of Anakin Skywalker, not the armor clad monster who had wrecked havoc across her life. No longer Vader. But their father all the same.

Han hadn't gone and still didn't know that she had. She left at night alone, easy enough to do with the party going as strong as it was. Han had been exhausted, falling asleep long before her, wrapped around her like ivy until his limbs finally loosened and the crushing grip he kept on her slowly gave way as he fell towards sleep. She had watched him, at war with herself. He would come with her if she asked. He wouldn't want her to go alone. The clearing wasn't far, but emotional toll of that journey would have concerned him.

He hadn't said much when she told him about Vader. Confided in him the horrible truth Luke had forced on her the evening before the battle. She sat across from him, holding herself apart. Knowing who and what she was was bad enough but to feel him pull away from her would be unbearable. Better to sit alone. Clinical. Calculated. She didn't mince words, had spoke quickly, clearly and then closed her eyes - unable to bear watching him leave her, as she knew in her heart he should do. When she opened them, he still sat there, leaning forward, watching her with careful, worried eyes. He hadn't abandoned her. A sob had caught in her throat and he was beside her at once, gathering her to him, murmuring over and over again that nothing changed. That it didn't matter. He loved her. He wasn't going anywhere. She was still the same person she had always been.

Except that she wasn't. She would never be again.

Leia felt hot tears prick her eyes in memory.

Hindsight being what it was, she knew now that going alone to that place had been a horrible idea.

Leia picked up Han's use-worn piloting gloves which lay across the console near the viewscreen. Turning the soft leather over in her hands she let her vision blur.

She could feel the heat from the fire, the rise of smoke and ash filling the air. She could see that masked face gleaming in the orange glow. She had screamed at it. Hurled anger towards the dead creator of all her pain. She had watched him burn for hours. Unable to look away. It stared slowly, a faint ripple under the surface of her mind. An aphotic bloom with crept through her fragile heart. Her breathing changed - chest expanding. The world sharpened around her. Crispness tingled down her fingers. She allowed the feeling to expand. A voice, vaguely familiar, called to her. Whispering seductively in her brain. The hair on the back of neck rose up in warning. _No_, she thought. And as quickly as it had started, the darkness retreated.

She had sat and stared for a long time after that simply watching the monster slowly melt away before her eyes. When the chill of the forest night finally reached her through the layer of pain and anger, she stood. Legs heavy. And, with a hissed curse at the corpse flaming in front of her, she left.

She hadn't poured ale on the pyre; as she should have to ease her father's passing. She hadn't prayed for him; not like she had for Bail as she had sat alone on the roof of the old temple on Yavin4 before joining the merriment of the metal ceremony.

By the time she had trudged back to the village, her body was reeling from the crushing weight of injustice and resentment warring inside her heart. She wished she could be more like Luke, able to look beyond what had happened and find some sort of peace. But she wasn't like Luke and she couldn't do that. So, she did what she knew how to do; she buried the darkness blossoming in her soul and moved on. She had slipped back to the _Falcon _undetected, and easily back into Han's arms. Sleep wouldn't find her, as she lay awake listening to the steady breathing of the man her _father_ had taken away from her. The man she had risked everything to get back. The man who knew who and what she was. The man who was still here with her.

Han was her champion against the darkness. Nightmares which plagued her were silenced in his arms. The darkness neither hissed nor called to her. With him, she was safe.

It didn't last though. New enemies of old friends had found a way to bring the darkness crashing cold down around her once more. They had taken her light away. Sent him on extended missions and trade disputes. Kept him from her. Allowed that whisper to become clearer. Louder than it was that night at the pyre. The darkness had found her again. Alone one night at the apartment she shared with Han. She was alone, having heard nothing from him for weeks - deep as he was into the outer rim worlds.

She awoke, the voice hissing quietly at her. Inviting her to become unsure. It pulled her through a whiplash of pain and suffering.

Tears had tracked down her face at the onslaught of memory the bleak nothingness hurled at her: Han's voice echoing through the chamber at Bespin. Luke's loneliness at the loss of Obi Wan and his joy at forming Rouge Squadron. Han's arms around her. Her own terror on Ord Mantel. Han's hands soft on her neck. Winter's laugh. Bail's voice calling her name over and over like a looped distress signal. Leia panted and cried. She tried to push the fear down like she always had before. But this time it wouldn't leave.

The images had started to speed up. She felt dizzy, leaning up against the headboard, trying desperately to find purchase in her bleak surroundings.

Unable to stop them, she instead bowed her head and allowed the memories to wash over her, feeling all too much all too quickly.

Vader's breathing in the confines of her cell. Han's eyes watching her. Bail's face. Her room overlooking the lake. Han's hands winding through her hair. Luke's lightsabre. Han's anger on Hoth. Luke in the bacta tank. The shield doors sliding shut. Chewie's grief. Vader's shadow hunting her. Han's voice. His breath, hot on her face. Cloud City. Lando. Vader. Han. Endor. The pyre. Han's hands on her shoulders. Their tangled night together on Bakrua, the way he held her, the feel of his rough cheek on her stomach. Steam. Han, bound and helpless, lowering slowly into the chamber below her feet. The weight of him on top of her, his eyes in the morning light. The feel of him inside her. Moving. Always moving. His screams on the scan-grid. Vader's masked face turning towards her. Alderaan.

She had woken again sometime later; gasping for breath, voice hoarse from screaming, hands numb, freezing cold. She had mediated that night. Stealing into Luke's apartment. She had sat on his balcony, feeling the grass beneath her. Grounding her and filling her heart with a calm familiarity. She had been safe there. Luke found her the next morning. He hadn't said anything. Hadn't asked why she had broken into his home in the middle of the night to sit on this balcony alone. That was something she had always loved about him. He was happy to simply let her be content. He had always been that way. Safe. But now? What did he think of her. Did he sense it? Could he feel that indecision? The anger? What would they think of her?

Her hands were cold.

Leia dropped the gloves onto her lap. Was this darkness too? Fear was of the dark side. She knew that much, Luke had told her so time and time again. Was she afraid? Yes. How could she not be? Surely not all anger and fear led down the path her father had taken. Surely there was room in the Force to be... human? She had thought by rejecting it entirely it would not touch her. Perhaps that was misguided.

Punching the code, the comm snapped to life and she waited. Luke answered on the fourth tone. "Leia?"

"I'm sorry." she whispered, picking with the gloves again, running her fingers obsessively over the palms of them. A nervous habit.

"Hey. Look, I'm on my way down. You don't need to be sorry. I shouldn't have tried to push you. I know that."

"This place is making me crazy." She exhaled.

"It's been a long week." he agreed.

"It has, hasn't it?" she smiled at the speaker.

"I'm just outside the hanger. I'll see you in a minute. I'll just say 'hello' to Han first."

"Okay, take your time." The line went dead. Craning her neck around the front view screen she saw him, R2 trailing behind slightly. She watched him wave - at Han she presumed. and disappear under the ship.

She stood and made her way out into the lounge, feeling better; lighter.

The galley was full to bursting. Fresh food and emergency ration crates crammed every last corner of the forward hold and spilled into the corridor where they then mixed with boxes of clothes and personal affects which had been added haphazardly over the last two days.

It would take her days - if not weeks - to organize everything. But, she thought happily as she reached for the packages on the top shelf, there really was nothing else she'd rather do. The glanced at her chrono and knelt down in the middle of the chaos.

Luke would be taking repairs with Han for ages; there were never any shortage of those to discuss.

If she, Han and Chewie were going to live here - and presumably they would for a least a while - they needed all the room they could get.

**xXx**

"Hey kid." Han nodded as Luke waved a hand at him, grinding out words passed the spanner clenched in his teeth.

"Still leaking, huh?"

"Still or again. I'm not sure. Kriff!" He cursed and dropped the bolt.

"I can either help or get out of your way. Your call." Luke grinned.

"Hand me that gasket, would ya?"

Luke smiled.

"I'm going to miss you, you know. Both of you."

Han was silent for a moment, fitting the new seal against the piping. He cranked it over and turned to face his friend.

"I know. This has all happened so fast. Not that I regret it." Han added quickly.

"No, I know what you mean. Still. She needs to get out of here. And she needs you. There's really no other option."

Han glanced over his shoulder at the cockpit - empty by the look of it - and nodded. "Not really."

They were silent for several minutes, Han watching the new seal for any sign of seepage while Luke plugged R2 into the _Falcon's_ main comm cord and had him run a full diagnostic report.

"Luke?" Han said quietly, resting above his hand on the Falcon's hull. The younger man turned towards him, blue eyes clear. "How do I help her?"

"Honestly, I have no idea."

"Oh great, thanks."

"Look," suddenly defensive. "I've tried. You know I-" Han shot him a sharp look and gestured for him to lower his voice. "You know," Luke started again, quieter this time. "That I have tried to help her come to terms with all of this."

"This isn't _about_ Vader, Luke." Han spat. "Not everything is about _him_."

"Isn't it?" Luke raised his eyebrows in question.

"She's told you before. She's fine."

"She's not 'fine', Han. She's angry and she's afraid."

"With good reason!" He hissed back. They had been dancing around the same argument for years.

"She can't afford to be angry. It will do too much damage. You know that. She knows that!"

"I trust her."

The finality of Han's words hit him like a punch in the gut. His mouth opened and closed. _Trust_.

"I know you do." He finally was able to reply, quietly. "I trust her too. Both of you."

"Then why hurt her? Why attack her with the same information over and over again? What good does that do?" Han snarled, advancing on him by several steps. Luke stood his ground. They were back to this again, were they?

"I'm not fighting with you again about this. I apologized for my actions before - to both of you. You asked for my help. That's what I am trying to do."

"No." Han stabbed a finger at him. "You're trying to push your own agenda. I won't let you harm her. Not again."

"That's the last thing I would ever want to do! But I know how it feels, Han! And I don't want that for her!"

Han said nothing. His chest heaved. He had wanted a simply answer to a simple question. More fool he, since he knew more than anyone how helping Leia was never simple.

"She's not evil, Luke." He replied quietly after a moment. Luke stepped towards him, coming with an arm length of the older man.

"Is that what you think of me? That I would come here and condemn her like that? Really?"

Han had the grace to look mildly ashamed before he squared his jaw stubbornly.

"I am not evil. Yet, I felt it. I stood before Darth Vader and the Emperor and I allowed them to manipulate me. The dark side is easy, Han. It feels... safe. Strong. So when they threatened to harm Leia, I gave into it. To protect her. That's what they wanted. I was able to save myself from it. It didn't consume me. But this," he pointed upwards indicating the woman above them. "Is different."

Han let his head fall backwards. "I didn't know that." he said quietly, tracing lines in the _Falcon's_ hull.

"What? That they threatened to hurt her? Steal her away? Keep her. Harm her? Turn her?"

"I didn't know." Han repeated.

"I would never, never let anything happen to her. They knew that, and they used it against me. Just as they would have used you against her."

Han's head snapped back at that.

"What?"

"Think about it. You know what I mean. She would do anything to protect you. Especially since she feels so responsible for everything that has happened to you already. If they had known, if Vader had sensed her on that platform on Bespin, if he had offered her your life in exchange for hers, you think she wouldn't have taken that deal?"

Han's breathing had spiked. He had never thought of the dark side in those terms before. It made it more dangerous. More... realistic. It wasn't a clear right or wrong decision he had always imagined it to be. He could see it, clearly acted out in front of him. She would do it. So would he. He would trade - and had traded - her safety, her life and well being for his own. No question. _Damn_.

Luke watched the play of emotion run across his friend's face. The awareness, the horror written so clearly across his eyes.

He knew now. He understood what they were up against. All of them.

"Okay." Han swallowed. "So, how do I help her?" He asked again.


	12. Chapter 12

_AN: In response to the message from a fantastic new reader, but I thought maybe others wondered too... Yes. All my stories "run" together. Since I have "one life" created for these wonderful characters in my mind, it seems fitting to have everything wrap and intertwine. Parts of my short stories will end up in one-shots, and multi-chapters, and visa-versa. Examples: They always live in the same apartment with the same layout, have the same art and furniture (its coming in this story - don't fret), they always have the same history together (Han's worn-soft piloting gloves, Leia hates being air-quoted and enjoys the horrible drink Ruusian Ice Wine, oh and the old sweater Han 'gave' her on the way to Bespin comes up a lot - you may have noticed), and small details weave in an out of my writing. I guess it's just the way I operate as a writer. :) I hope that clears everything up! Thanks! _

_Fa la la, la la lalala. Happy 2016 everyone!_

* * *

It had taken nearly a standard hour, but she had managed to make some headway though all the mess when Han and Luke finally trudged up the ramp, both covered in coolant and grime. Han took one look at the piles of random objects littering the lounge and opened his mouth.

"Don't even." Leia shut him down, not rising her eyes to look at him as she added another box of breakfast rations to the pile beside her.

"What-"

"You know _what_. Don't."

Han waved his hands at her in exaggerated annoyance and went to the galley.

"This is a mess too!" He shouted.

"Of course it is! I haven't made it there yet! Get out of there unless you plan on being useful. I don't want you messing it up."

"Messing what up? Kriff! What the hell did you do in here!" Han's voice was muffled, clearly coming from the forward hold, where she had started to unpack the collection of random crates and boxes before becoming overwhelmed and moving on.

"Leave that alone, too! Hi." She stopped yelling long enough to look up and smile at Luke, before throwing a well aimed box of toiletries at the hallway to the cabins.

"You're making quite the mess." Luke said quietly, both of them listening to Han stomp and curse in the hold.

"I know." Leia returned to her work with a smug smile and whipped another box, this time at the hold's doorway. It sailed through and Han shouted again.

Her brother shook his head - watching the couple argue back and forth over where to pack the dry-good ration boxes. Yes, he would definitely miss this.

"Han tells me that you're leaving in the morning?" Luke slipped into the corner sofa in lounge, resting his elbows on the holochess table.

Leia stopped piling boxes one on top of the other and turned to face him. "That's right. I think we need to. The press has been good but the longer we stay the longer we're actively involved with this whole mess. I just want to be done and move on. We're heading to Kashyyyk first. We'll spend some time - I'm not sure how long exactly - with Chewie's family. Then," she looked around absently lost for a moment. "Who knows..."

"Would you come back here? Provided there was a place for you both with the Republic?"

"I doubt it. Look, I'm not punishing them, that's not what this is. I don't want them to slink back and offer Han and I something they really should have offered years ago. I'm not calling their hand Luke. It's over. I'm done."

"They already miss you. Both of you. You know that."

"Ad that somehow excuses what they did? It's politics. They just don't like that I folded and walked."

"Quite the sabacc vocabulary you have there. Careful, people'll start to talk."

Leia, true to form, ignored his jab and held a hand up for him to pull her to stand beside him.

"So, Kashyyyk? Chewie must be excited." Luke changed tracks, Leia was stubborn and no amount of interference would make her change her mind once it was set. Besides, he thought as he watched Han and Leia discuss the details of their trip, he had other things to worry about when it came to the future of this sister.

**xXx**

"Millennium Falcon. This is control." the comm hissed in front of them and Han quickly clicked over codes for clearance.

Leia yawned and ran a hand over her eyes. She hadn't slept at all the night before, and all of the last minute running around this morning ha caught up with her. So much was happening, she couldn't relax. Han, annoyingly, slept well anywhere - a perk from a life on the run. He had been asleep and unmovable before she was finished in the fresher. His light snoring seeping into the confined space and making her smile, despite of how grating it could be at times. He had turned and lay across the middle of the bunk. There was no sense moving him to only lay there awake, so instead she pulled on her over-sized sweater with the fraying seams and sat in the cockpit alone.

It hadn't taken them long to get everything into the Falcon, it would take forever to sort it all out now that it was, but once they had taken the last load down and done one last sweep, they had stood silent together in the middle of the living room; all stark white and modern gleaming surfaces, and breathed - for the first time in years.

They didn't speak, she simply took his hand and they left, shutting the door and activating the clear-code on the controls.

"Go lay down if you're tied." Han looked over his shoulder to where Leia was sitting behind him. "We're looking at the usual time, a couple jumps - we'll be there in about 6 hours."

She nodded and stood, as the ship rose gently off the pad in the New Republic hanger for what was likely to the last time, she held on to the back of his seat as he took them out of the hanger, feeling something build up inside her. It wasn't grief, but it was close; a loss all the same. The world below them flashed by, grey on grey the buildings swept passed them as the _Falcon_ joined the traffic overhead. Her fingers dug into the head rest and Chewie growled softly, adjusting the pitch of the freighter, bringing them closer and closer towards freedom. Leia held her breath, closing her eyes until she felt the _Falcon_ shutter in that familiar way she always did as they cleared the grav-well.

When she opened them again, Coruscant and the life she had tried to lead on it, fell away behind them. Moving a hand down, she let her palm press over Han's heart, steady for several moments before she turned; heading towards their cabin.

**xXx**

"I need to ask you something without you getting angry." he stood several paces from her, tall and sure. He hadn't relaxed since they landed - which was highly unlike him. Here with friends he entirely trusted was the only other place - apart from being alone with her on board the _Falcon_ \- that she had the opportunity to see him completely unwind.

"...okay." She said slowly, suspicious now as she watched him watch her.

"Luke is worried about you. We both know that." he allowed the statement to hang in the air between them before sighing and placing a hand on the worn rail beside him, fingers picking at the small knot of wood near the joint. She stayed silent, eyes wandered over momentarily to watch his fingers nervously curl and tap against the grain of the wood. "I need to know, Leia."

"You need to know?"

"Yes." his jaw twitched.

"Know what?" She said, calmly.

"If you're okay." His fingers stopped and he grabbed the rail lightly, anchoring himself for whatever it was he thought she would sling at him.

"Han," she sighed tiredly and lowered herself onto the walkway circling Chewbacca's home, sitting with her legs curled under herself, staying away from the edge - less she fall. "I don't know what you want me to say." she finally answered, flicking small fragments of leaves over the edge, watching intently as they fluttered and twisted downwards to the forest floor.

"I don't _want_ you to _say_ anything, Leia. I need you to tell me the truth."

She couldn't meet his eyes. He exhaled sharply, scared now. For her. For them. For whatever the hell her silence meant.

Words scattered in half sentences across her mind. They wouldn't form. She was loosing him. He was afraid of her. Luke's warning screamed through her. He had been right. Shallow breaths raked her frame. _You will destroy him! _Her brother's haunting words echoed in her heart. _He will follow you. He loves you, Leia! Your fear will kill you both. You need to stop this, or else you end up just like father! _She had been angry and scared; had lashed out and fell apart. Han had saved her from it, months ago now. Protected her, gathered her away from Luke; away from the foreshadowing her brother hurled at her. Han had been angry. He hadn't heard the fight, but one look at Leia's face and he knew. Vader. He had cast Luke out, banished him, shouted and pointed - words blurring together as Leia watched on, detached and trembling with effort. It wasn't fair, this was not Luke's fault. But she let him do it. Let him save her from the monstrous truth of it all.

_...destroy him..._

"I'm sorry." she breathed.

A hand gently touched her hair and she felt him crouch down beside her.

"Please, talk to me." the gentle urgency in his voice cracked through the already crumbling foundation of her defensive structure.

She couldn't destroy him. She loved him. She would never allow that to happen. Ever.

"I saw it." he remained silent, dropping down and letting his long legs hang over the edge. "The pyre. On Endor." She clarified.

She felt him tense in surprise, although he didn't move.

"I went alone, the night of the party." Perhaps starting from the beginning was the only place _too_ start.

"Alone?"

She nodded. This really wasn't how she had seen tonight going.

Their arrival on the forest planet was overwhelming. Malla had practically pulled her along when she started up the curving staircase towards Chewbacca's family home. It had been far too long since she had come, and Malla excited gestures and growling had sparked a happiness which had laid dormant for far too long in Leia's heart. This was family. This was her family. Han had followed them, surrounded by the rest of the wookies waiting to welcome them, and dropped a loaf of custard bread on the counter, winked at her and continued his conversation with Lumpy. Dinner had been wonderful, and when the evening started to wind down, she had slipped outside for air. Han had followed her, of course, she had half been expecting him to, but she hadn't imagined this was why.

"I needed to."

"You didn't have to go alone, Leia. I would have gone with you. Or I'm sure Luke-"

"I needed to." she repeated swiftly, quietly. "I needed to see it. To know."

"And how did that make you feel?"

She laughed, head thrown back; surprising him.

"Really? We're really going to have this conversation?"

"I think we need to. What's so funny?"

"The feelings talk, huh? You never struck me as a man who would initiate or even want to have the feelings talk." her laughing died down to a small hiccuping chuckle, bordering on perhaps a tiny amount of hysteria.

He smiled back and shook his head. "Look, Sweetheart. I don't know how I'm supposed to help you deal with," he waved a hand in a sweeping gesture as if to indicate the entire galaxy, "all this shit that's been landed on your plate. But," he turned towards her, face determined. "I'm going to try."

They sat in silent for a long while, both lost in thought to whatever demons hid within them, when Leia finally shifted beside him, turning to watch him in the dying light for the forest evening.

"You told me once that you believed anyone could outrun anything. Do you still believe that?"

He had. Cocky and confidant, sitting in the lounge of the _Falcon_ on the way to the new base after Yavin4 had to be evacuated. He could see himself, hair a bit too long, that typical bored-lazy half grin plastered across his face, shirt undone three or so buttons more than it should have been. Attitude pouring off it him - trying to impress the small powerhouse princess sitting across from him, looking at him as if she could see his soul - perhaps she could, even then.

He had believed it - at that time. Had truly felt that if you outwitted and outmaneuvered your past, you could keep it at bay. But now? He didn't want her running. Always careful, looking over her shoulder - and for what? A shadow of a monster who had tortured her and those she loved? A bloodline she could never fully escape? A fear that maybe one day, she would become the very thing she was running from?

He looked down at his hands and replied quietly. "I don't believe the past - or even the present - defines who you _can_ be. But running? No. I don't believe that anymore."


	13. Chapter 13

_AN: I've re-written this chapter now I think about four times - I just couldn't get the tone right. Sorry for the delay. My brain has been a haze of green tea and cardio training. If you like it, please leave me a note. It's so nice to know people are reading this!  
_

* * *

The silence between them stretched on. Leia stood again; restless. Pacing the length of the bridge once, twice, three times; back and forth. Bare feet padding softly across the worn, wet surface of the wooden planks. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she turned back to him, face shining in the moonlight, tear tracks bright against her skin. "I don't want to run anymore."

Too many tears. Leia was usually self composed, together. Tough. But now, here - standing on the bridge under the thick canopy of colossal trees, she looked as she had on Endor, so many years ago. Fragile. Sacred. So much had changed over the last five years, but somehow, here they were. Back to that dark, quiet evening. Standing on yet another bridge, clear across the galaxy, staring at each other - with no idea what to say next. But at least this time, he was able to go to her; able to push the darkness and worry away.

He hadn't known, hadn't guessed that she had been to see the body. Determined and stubborn - as usual - she had kept that locked away in her heart. Let it eat away at her. No more running. He would help her - Gods only knew how - he would banish the looming fear of evil and darkness. He would do it, even if it took him his whole life to ensure.

A night hawk shirked overhead, high above them in the towering darkness - shattering the pensive silence between the two. Chewbecca's shadow fell behind them, protective and silent - they both felt it. It was time to move indoors. Han stood and pulled her in next to him, kissing the top of her head gently. "Come on, we've had a long day. Let's go to bed."

**xXx**

"It always rains when I come here." she murmured, face turned to the side, cheek resting on the softness of the sweet cotton sheets. She had been quietly watching the rain streak down from the roof, pattering softly on the leaves surrounding them. The house was silent, she had felt the rise and fall of her breathing slowly calm and steady since he had collapsed, un-moving beside her ages ago. The room was dark. Quiet in the stillness of the midnight hour. The half empty cup of oldbark tea - something Malla always insisted she _should_ like - despite the acidic bitter taste - sat forgotten, half drank and cold on the table beside her.

The last several days had been simply wonderful. Han had somehow been able to procure an immense supply of Alderaanian custard bread - from where he still wouldn't tell her - before they had left the capitol city. He had delighted her with load after loaf, and the pairing of Malla's homemade honey made her feel more and more at home. She knew, logically, that they couldn't stay forever - couldn't hang around as never-leaving house guests and simply freeload off of Chewie's family for the rest of time. She _knew_ it, deep down. But she didn't want to _acknowledge _it. At least; she sighed and settled further into the pillow, tracing a tiny droplet of water as it meandered down the pane of glass across the room, not yet.

This _place_, with this _family_, was the closest both her and Han had to an extended family, Leia thought happily on their fourth morning around the large kitchen table. Sipping on darkened caf while Lowie tried (again) to teach her the rules to a rather confusing and complicated dice game as Han watched on, munching on a stolen slice of custard toast, slathered in honey, amusement plastered across his face as she shook her head (again) and Lowie started over in his instruction. She had given up, after what felt like hours, and stood to move in between Han's knees. It was comfortable here. She could be the person - the woman - she had longed to be for so long. The woman she had shut down and closed up; for fear of what others would think, would say. That person, the closed up scared one, was gone. Vanished into the jungle air; just as mist dispersing before the sun. It was wonderful. It was... free.

She had sat, legs dangling over the edge to the mechanical hatch while Han tinkered with the _Falcon_, earlier in the day. She had been up before him that morning, had slipped out of bed to clamber up to the rooftop terrace and watch the sun rise, just as she had nearly every day of her childhood at the summer palace. Standing there, feeling the first rays of light crawl across her skin, she felt truly at peace. As if perhaps she might, one day, be able to breath it all out - the worry, tension and turmoil which has bloomed and curled across her shattered soul. He had missed her in the morning, raising questioning brows at her from the kitchen island as he fried eggs. She had smiled and shook her head - she was fine. His hands had toyed with her feet, rolling circles around her ankles as soon as Chewie had growled back to them from the cockpit that he needed new fuses from the hanger. He had clambered out, pulled her with him and locked them away, teasing and playful for a long while - creeping out to find an un-amused wookie staring onto the unresolved mess of the mechanical hatch. Another day, perhaps.

She turned he attention from her thoughts to the prone figure sprawled out beside her, and lightly ran a hand through his unruly hair.

"I know." his voice was muffled, laying face down in the bed, arms limply spayed beside him.

"A conspiracy of yours to keep me inside, perhaps?"

He made a noise which sounded like an agreement and Leia laughed, pushing against him with her feet, trying to have him roll him over and face her. "Are you alive?" she asked in a hushed stage whisper, grinning and biting her lip playfully.

"Not yet." he muffled again, face still stubbornly suffocated in the pillow under him.

"We need to do _that_ again, Hotshot." she nipped temptingly at his ear.

"I'll need a stimshot first." she laughed and curled against his side. He turned then, gathering her to his chest, breathing in the unique scent of her hair - a scent he had know since before she would have wanted him to know it. A scent he would recognize anywhere.

"I could to used to this." She stated quietly, hands curved into her chest, holding on to his arms. "Can we stay here?"

"Forever?"he asked, breathing into the top of her head.

"Well," she chuckled softly, "Maybe not forever. But… for a while longer?"

"We can stay as long as you want."

"Really? They don't mind?"

"Chewie's family? Of course not."

"You're sure."

"Very. We _could_ stay forever if you want to."

She relaxed back into him. "What day is it?"

"No idea, the 19th, maybe?"

"I should send Luke and Winter a note tomorrow."

"I got a message from Lando today." He said quietly, half asleep again.

"Oh?" She stilled her hands, which had been running on their own accord up and down his forearms.

"He has a contact for us. If we're interested."

"Where?"

Han was silent for several breaths. He hated to do it. To drag her there. They could do it, stay here. Calm. At peace. Together. They could raise a family - _if she wanted_ _a family_ \- he quickly added to his rattled thoughts. They had actually never discussed that - which struck him now as odd. They never really discussed anything; they just _did_. They didn't talk about what they wanted, they simply moved forward. Part of him, the small part which whispered darkly while out on long detachments, worried that if he started to talk about the future, she would come to her senses and realize that a future with him was something she didn't really want. Perhaps, he breathed in her hair once more, if he asked for more what they already had would all disappear.

They had never talked about getting married, or the idea of children. His chest constricted. Did she want that? They had been together for five years - was that enough time for her to make up her mind about him? Fear. He swallowed it down. Fear of her refusal had driven him to shy away from the path of a real life with this remarkable woman. He opened his mouth to ask her - felt his throat constrict and his heart rate spike. Just then she turned towards him, eyes now worried.

"Nar Shadda." He replied instead, mouth dry.


	14. Chapter 14

_AN: Happy Monday!  
_

* * *

Press members and hovercams crowded against the entrance to the diplomatic temporary residence. _Velts_. All of them. Grasping and greedy. Behind the darkened protective glass of the speeder-cab, he sneered at the mob pressing in around him. The questions would be the same string of inane hawking which had been tossed his way for the last several days; Were the Hapen's staying with the New Republic? What had happened to his face, had he gotten into a fight with the ex-General? Had he spoken to the Princess before she left? Did he know where the ex-smuggler had taken the royal disappointment which was Leia Organa.

His lip twisted slightly at the thought of her. _Yes_. They might love her. _Them_. He corrected himself, pausing to take a deep calming breath before depressing the door lock on the speeder's door. Shouting assaulted him, body guards rushing in front of his path, pushing, threatening, keeping everyone back. How appropriate, he thought as he nodded at no one in-particular, that the galaxy love them, the jumped-up power couple of the fledgling New Republic. The classic holo drama couple, the unlikely team. The Princess and the Smuggler. It was deplorable. Ridiculous.

The whole planned had been flawed - right from the beginning. If he had had any hope of winning her attention - he saw that now - he should have started on Hapes, met her on his ground, his terms, without that troublesome other man in the picture. His mother had fought against him in his choice of romantic pursuit. Had relented - very unlike her - to the idea after many weeks of debate. Leia Organa could be molded, crafted and toyed with. Stripped of the comfortable cover of her precious Ne Republic, thrown into a world she didn't trust or completely understand. Removed from friends and the small family she had gathered. Yes, his mother had finally relented, she might be capably of controlling a "Queen" like that.

His mother.

She had not permitted an audience with him since his unfortunate last meeting with General Solo.

His eyes narrowed and he flexed his shoulders against the rough cloth of the formal family robes. Uncomfortable. Hand raised, he hesitated a moment before knocking at the large ornamental door which guarded his mother's assigned set of rooms.

**xXx**

He waited. Having being summoned into her presence an hour ago, she had yet to acknowledge him. Another punishment - perhaps. Disappointment radiated from her. Not that she had ever liked the girl - but it was a failure; one more stacked precariously on top of so many others.

Finally, at last, she slowly turned her head to the side, an invitation to speak, to leave, to come forward and offer the apology he had already delivered daily for the last seven days.

"Mother." He bowed his head at her still turned form.

"News?" she asked simply, quietly. A whisper of a demand.

"Nothing of significance."

"We are to leave in the morning." Her voice remained a soft murmur, gently echoing across the great expanse of the large window in front of her.

"What of the Republic?"

"We have no need of the _Republic_." she spat, angrily flinging the final word across the grand living space with disgust; as if this whole campaign had been an exhausting lesson in patience and a complete waste of time - in that, Isolder mused, his mother wasn't entirely wrong. He couldn't deny he had wanted Leia, and on some level still did. Despite the embarrassment and the sharp unexpected twist this disaster of a negotiation had taken. He hadn't expected - could never had predicted - the dedicated manner in which the last Princess of Alderaan would remain faithful and attached to an ex-Imperial Officer, ex-smuggler, ex-General.

No. It seemed no one expected that reaction. She had surprised them all. Called their hand, as it were.

"And what of the Princess and Captain Solo?" He asked quietly.

"I will deal with them, myself." She hushed once more, turning back to the wide window-wall; again facing into the cold shifting night.

**xXx**

The sun rose over their ninth day on the forest planet. Mist burning off across the tree tops, rising and dissipating with the first rays of mellow pink sunrise.

Disentangling himself from the covers, he had dragged on a pair of sleep pants and softly closed the door after him, leaving a sleeping Leia behind. She had sighed and settled back into the deep covers, buried as always under a mound of blankets and coverlets; nested happily. Content and safe for the time being.

The house was unusually quiet, without the normal bustle and movement of the home's large occupants.

Both hunting bags were missing entrance way, however - Han squinted as he passed by - Chewie's crossbow was still slung from the centre hook.

Rounding the corner to the galley, Han startled out of his thoughts, a jumble of future worries and present concerns, by the towering figure of Chewbacca, eyeing him from across the large wooden table.

"No. She's still asleep."

Chewie woofed softly and offered Han a large mug steaming with caf.

"Thanks." He turned and flicked the comm system onto silent as he called up the new channels. "Anything new?" He asked, carefully sipping on the steaming liquid.

Chewie nodded and sank into the sofa, woofing softly - as to not wake Leia - as Han scan through the news reports, volume still muted, fingers clicking over quickly. He stopped abruptly at one of the Core channels. The smug, still slightly bruised face of the Hapen prince shone back at him. His fists balled instinctively. _Bastard_. Chewbacca sat forward, reading the scrolling script at the bottom of the screen.

"Good. They're leaving."

The two were quiet for a time, each staring at the news feed intently.

"No. It's not. You're right about that." Han sighed and stood, flicking the switch, comm-station going dark. Chewie growled, gesturing over to the hallway. "No, let her sleep. She's exhausted." He stood, back to his friend, watching the controls quietly. "Lando wants us on Nar Shaddaa." He said under his breath, not looking up, but feeling the large wookie's attention on him instantly.

A low growl questioned him.

"Yeah, I know. I thought about that too. But…" Chewie glanced again down the hallway towards the darkened room in which the tiny powerhouse of a woman was still sleeping.

"We can't stay here, Chewie." He sighed, slightly exasperated. His friend woofed a question and cocked his head dramatically. "Okay, fine we could. I know. And I - _we_ \- both appreciate it, Pal. But..." he trailed off, tracing the rim on the mug while hunting for the right words.

So many possibilities stretched out before him, his hands tingled with excitement, itching to feel the controls pull and twist as he continued running. But, he reminded the reckless, wild side of his brain, it wasn't just himself anymore. And they were both too done for running. She didn't deserve that life, and he didn't want what didn't include her.

he needed to come up with a plan. He needed to do something.

For her. _For them_.

Perhaps _then_ he could offer her something besides a beaten up old freighter and a hairy roommate. Perhaps after they ran a little further, pushed just a little harder, went that much deeper into whatever lay in front of them, maybe then he could ask her. But not before. He shook his head to clear it, insecurities snapping back down to lay dormant and twisting.

"We're going." Han finally said, quietly still staring at the disengaged comm station. "To Nar Shaddaa. We have to."


	15. Chapter 15

_AN: Happy Monday! I feel like I need to apologize for the seemingly haphazardness of this chapter. It's all important, but it comes off a little ADD.  
_

* * *

Silence had stretched beyond comfortable. Han kept his back ridged, facing away from his friend. He knew, without looking, exactly what kind of look the large wookie would be giving him. It was exactly the look he was secretly giving himself. But, he had argued for the last day and a half with himself about this and he still couldn't see any way around it.

It was an _easy_ job - the words made his brain cringe - and the payout was large with a small amount of risk. Leia could handle herself; he knew that better than anybody.

She had curled towards him last night, spun in the circle of his arms and rested her small hand against the scruff on his face. She hadn't said anything. Content to simply lay there, breathing with him. She knew, as well as he did, that they needed to take this chance. The potential sideline of the the deals brokered for Lando and his new business partner Talon Karrde - a 'business man' of varying description - could be their meal-ticket.

They had money; a handful of salary-filled years and Leia's newly accessible off-world family accounts freed up a lot of their present concerns; but it wouldn't last forever. Long term, they needed something more. This had possibility, and they would be foolish to not give it a shot.

"I know what you're thinking."

Chewie barked several times.

"Keep your voice down will ya!" He snapped, glancing over at the still-dark hallway leading to where Leia was sleeping. "I can't. Not yet. Maybe after this deal. But-" Chewie cut him off and he spun to face him, finger pointed in the wookie's face.

"It's complicated, alright!" Eyes hard.

It actually wasn't. But it was terrifying, and he couldn't admit that to the large hairy oaf sitting in front of him, blue eyes boring into his, demanding and judgmental. Chewbacca yowled softly, quieter this time, watching the vast ray of emotions sweep quickly across Han's face. _Fear_. Fast and fleeting, it there. He was scared. _Still_. Chewie sighed exasperated. _Humans_.

Han swiped a hand through his hair, brushing stubborn strands away from his eyes. He should have stayed in bed.

"Yeah well." He shrugged, mood heavy. "It's not for a while yet anyway. I want to work out a few small issues with the _Falcon_, and Leia still needs a bit more time to settle."

Chewie piped a question.

"I need to get back to Lando on that; we were thinking maybe another month."

A door latch clicked open, the sound small and startling, from down the dark hallway. Leia emerged a moment later, legs bare in a soft sleep shorts and a bulk sweater swallowing up her torso and arms. She smiled sleepily at them and came to the sofa where Chewie sat, perching on the arm, keen eyes watching the two irritated males in front of her.

"Breakfast?" She finally asked, breaking the strained spell in the room.

**xXx**

"When is Life Day?" She handed him a roll of thermal clotting tape.

"Next month sometime, I'm not sure exactly. Why?" He answered distractedly from below her feet.

"I'd like to stay for that, if we have time."

"Sure. It's fun from what I remember; I've only seen it once before." His hand appeared and she placed the spanner in his grasp. They had sat quietly at breakfast, tension heavy in the air. Chewie had woofed at her, chatting mildly as Han sat silent, chewing slowly - eyes flicking up every once and while to light on her face. Something had happened.

"When does Lando want us on Nar Shaddaa?"

"Doesn't matter. That's not the way this work is gunna work, Princess. He doesn't get to snap his fingers at us. We'll go when we want to. He arranges everything around our schedule."

"How the other half live..." she trailed off, voice straining to sound wistful.

"You and I have spent way too much time waiting around for everyone else. I'm not interested in rushing around to meet deadlines and sitting in dumpy bars and dirty hotels for a contact to show. And," he added, pulling himself out of the hatch. "I doubt you want that too. But, if you're itchin' to leave we can float for a while."

"No, I'm not. But we _could_ go back to Manaan if we have the time..." She trailed off. They had had fun there, so many years before.

"I like Manaan." his voice suddenly husky.

"I know you do." she whispered, smiling gently. "That resort was nice."

He nodded.

"What were you fighting with Chewie for this morning before I came in?"

_Whoa_. She'd thrown him. _Damn_. She hadn't done that for a while. He'd forgotten, it had always been a favorite trick in her arsenal. Get him nice and comfortable, then ask him an off-base question and watch his derailment for clues.

"Oh." He gathered his thoughts. His mind had been sending him snapshots of their last holiday on the resort world, flirting between the memories of finding Leia submerged in their suite's large soaker tub, hair piled high on the top of her head, eyes daring and sultry in the low light of the evening, to remembering perfectly the way she had looked, slinking through the crowded betting station, hand wrapped around the tapered neck of a local ale bottle. "Nothing."

"Nice try, Solo. Out with it."

"He's not sure Nar Shaddaa is the right move." he half lied.

She tilted her head. "Neither are you."

"I think it's our only real option at this point. There's a difference."

She didn't believe him, but she nodded. "I better go call Luke." She kissed the corner of his mouth and stood.

No. That wasn't what they had argued about. Something else had happened. But the air around them felt tired, old. As if this was an argument they had been having for a long while. They would iron it out, but she also knew better then to expect her badgering him would help. At least she had learnt something in the last five years, she smiled fondly and entered the cockpit.

**xXx**

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"You're actually going to Nar Shaddaa?"

She bristled. "Is that somehow difficult for you to wrap that perfect, peace filled Jedi brain around?"

"Have you ever been to Nar Shaddaa, Leia?" He gracefully ignored and sidestepped the snide comment. He counted four breaths before she replied, smiling to himself.

"No. Have you?"

"Yes, I was there with Han before we settled on Hoth, remember. It's no picnic." _Shit_. She'd forgotten. Something significant tugged at her brain. A memory, buried deep in her mind. Unneeded and unimportant. She hadn't been there. They had argued - as per usual - before he had taken off. She hadn't thought Luke needed to go, Han wanted him there, thought it would be good for him. Give the kid some breathing room, let him cut loose a bit. He had not, however, wanted her to come along. The trio had been radio-silence for nearly two standard weeks, returning to the floating base on-board _Home One_, a bustle of sarcastic, smirked remarks.

Leia had forgotten, the sudden memory of feeling apart, left out and slightly off-balance sliding up her spine again. They hadn't missed too many adventured together, but it had felt like a small club she hadn't be allowed to join. Luke had come back somehow older. Han's face slightly bruised, nose having been an obvious casualty in whatever trouble the three had been able to find. She had inquired, haughtily of course, exactly what they had done on the small smugglers moon. Luke had turned bright red, coughed and muttered something about just checking out the local scene and making new friends. Han had leaned back in the chair of the lounge, infuriating as usual, and informed her she shouldn't worry about it. She protested, feeling left out and hating that she cared, and again he brushed her off, cocking his head to the side and grinning, adding that he had simply helped Luke make a few new friends.

_Impossible man. _

"Really? Well that's a shame, I could use a good picnic." She glowered at the small comm unit. "Get down off your bantha, Luke. Where the hell do you think I _was_ during the war? Sitting in a meadow drinking sweet tea with other high-bred ladies? No. I was slodging through death, blood and shit - just like you."

The conversation had gone south fast. He sighed and tried again. "I didn't mean to imply that you can't handle yourself. If anyone knows you're capable of doing that, it's me. I just meant that it's a little surprising to hear you two would voluntarily go back into the fray again so soon. Does Han think this a good idea."

"Han knows it's a good option."

"Well, I guess..." he trailed off.

"Besides, _you_ had fun the last time you were there, as I now recall." _silence_.

"Oh... right."

She rolled her eyes and changed the subject.

"How are things there?"

"Crazed. Still. The Hapen delegation is pulling out this afternoon."

"Oh. I didn't know they were still there. What happened?"

"Nothing as far as I can tell. There's so little information."

"That's not surprising." Leia hushed, picking at her fingernails.

"What have you been up to on Kashyyyk? How's Chewie and the family?" Luke forced a cheery tone.

She smiled then, a true smile. "It's raining. Again. It always rains when I'm here!"

"You're unlucky that way. The last time I was there it was beautiful."

"I know. Just my luck. Not a lot really, which is nice. Working on the Falcon, installed a new fluid lien to the coolant."

"Fix the problem?"

"Not sure yet - it was a slow leak the last time. But I hope so. We're staying for Life Day next month."

"Never been, you'll have to tell me know it is. Are you heading out after that?"

"Probably, we might go to Manaan again. Find some sun in Ahto West."

"Jealous. I'm heading off-world next week."

"Where?" Leia's spine straightened and the small voice at the back of head snapped to attention.

"Yavin4. I'm going to try to rebuild the Order."


	16. Chapter 16

_AN: Happy Leap-Year Monday! We're here! My Fav smuggler's moon - Nar Shaddaa. We jump ahead a bit in this chapter - gotta keep it moving. :) have a lovely week!  
_

* * *

She had been expecting a short jump. And by all accounts, it really should have been. But, Leia chided herself as she dug through the forward hold for the last remaining yoshe bar she had hidden before leaving Coruscant three standard months ago, she apparently had a lot to learn about pirating and was recently informed that it was ill-advised in the extreme to simply drop out of hyper and descend on a planet known for being less than hospitable.

Leia hissed as she bumped her head against the low ceiling and scrambled over the last pile of crates, quickly sweeping a hand around the exterior of the box in her hungry, desperate search. She found one, at last, just as the grav-simulator in the _Falcon_ dialed back into sublight, pulling it out from a crate packed with an assortment of canned goods and ducking out of the cramped space. She had had good intentions of sorting through everything once on Kashyyyk, but since they had landed and settled so happily into their new life, the prospect of digging through boxes and cataloging rations and various supplies lost all appeal. She had, instead, sat and watched, helping occasionally as Han and Chewbacca growled and yelled and generally didn't really fix anything. They had fallen into an easy quiet pace, something Leia hadn't at all expected. It was welcome, especially knowing it wouldn't last.**  
**

Her socked feet padded softly across the grated floor towards their bunkroom. having abandoned both Han and Chewie in the cockpit almost two hours ago on the pretense of packing her bag to stay on Nar Shaddaa, Leia had instead curled back into the sheets and flicked through her datapad, queuing messages for when they came out of lightspeed. She took a bite out of the yoshe bar and closed her eyes in delight. She loved these. Perhaps she would be able to get Luke or Winter to send her some, whenever her and Han landed somewhere more permanent. The queued messages pinged and disappeared, leaving her staring at the blank white screen in anticipation. Winter's reply would be quick, efficient as ever.

The thought of her friend made Leia smile sadly. She missed her, more than she expected too. Had forgotten or perhaps simply overlooked how important her childhood friend was to her, especially when Han was off-world, lonely and alone. Winter has always the wonderful ability to know exactly how to help someone.

Leia smiled and with a lazy sigh and turned over to her stomach, mind drifting to a particular evening - one of thousands - several months ago. Han had been on the first leg of the final campaign against Zsinj. Communication had been spotty, as it normally was, and she had grown quickly lonely. The door to her barren, empty-feeling chimed. Glancing across the living room into the galley, she squinted to make out the numbers flashing on the chrono. 2140. Rather late for visitors. Especially unexpected visitors. The chime pinged again and she uncurled her legs from the think tangle of blankets covering her legs.

"I was just passing by," And with that, she wasn't alone anymore. A smile greeted her and a crisp white bag slid into her grasp - no doubt containing aircakes and sunberry jelly - suddenly she was there. Winter had always been like that, Leia thought sadly, tracing a thumb down the smooth edge of the device before swiping upwards to check the memory status and toying with the idea of checking up on the news. Just always so... there.

Her fingers tapped impatiently against the back of the pad, nails tinging lightly on the metal sleeve.

Luke's message might be a long time in reply, and she had no idea what time it was on Coreuscant. Enough for the night, she thought with finality before flicking the device off and setting it against the ledge above her head. She hadn't been able to raise Luke again since Life Day, and that was now over five weeks ago.

Leia chewed her lip carefully, knees pulled up, arms - still holding onto some of the tan she had been able to coax out of her skin while on Manaan - propped up across them. Brain ticking back to the conversation she had shared with Luke the last time she had spoken with him.

Something about Luke's plan tugged at her mind. She couldn't place it. But somewhere, in the dark still present corners of her soul she worried. Harsh whispers threatened her. To rebuild, even to try, was a monumental undertaking. The necessary resources alone were staggering, not to mention, where to start? How would he go about finding Jedi? Since the fall of the Emperor, many had already come out of hiding. But to train them? Alone? Himself? Luke was talented, but mostly self instructed. Patient almost to a fault and from her limited exposure, a fairly good teacher. But still she worried...

Han had shrugged and offered no real comment to Leia's annoyed retelling of her brother's plans for the temple on the forest world which had been their tiny haven for a short time. She had stood in the cockpit, arm braced angrily against the bulkhead, fingers playing over the various dials and switches, exasperated at the overly relaxed posture of the man seated in front of her. After letting her condemn the idea for several minutes, he had simply stood, kissed her forehead and moved passed her to continue his tinkering.

She had apologized for her reaction later, tucked into him under the thick comforter, head resting in the crook of his arm, breath causing small pinpricks on his skin to rise in annoyance. He had smiled at her and told her not to worry about Luke, he'd be fine, and once that they were done on Nar Shaddaa, they could always hop over and see what he was doing and help him if they were able to.

She'd said nothing further however, only nodded and settled closer into him, letting the familiar, deep sound of his breathing lull her to sleep.

The days on Kashyyyk had melted into quiet evenings, passing softly in a haze; until the buzz which had been humming through the house for the weeks leading up to the important wookie celebration had become a full-fledged force all of it's own.

"This rain had better let up by tomorrow, otherwise Malla is going to be thoroughly unpleasant to deal with." Han muttered, taking a swing of his ale before continuing his assigned task of slicing enormous slabs of meat and adding them to the marinade sitting before him.

"It always rains when I come here. I'm beginning to think it's me," she laughed lightly while continuing to shell vine pods into the large wooden bowl. "Is Malla sure we need _this_ much food?"

"Have you just met Chewie?" he asked incredulously, setting down the knife once more, sliding the scored meat into the waiting bowl.

Leia laughed and shook her head, heavy ponytail swinging temptingly across her back.

"It just seems like a lot, that's all."

"Do you remember my thirtieth birthday?"

She flushed mildly in memory. Oh yes, she remembered it. Ten months after the Battle of Yavin. It had been a party, not of Han's creation, but he had also never been one to back out of a good time. Luke's newly formed Rogue Squadron had spread the invitations like wildfire, and suddenly Han's birthday celebration was all anyone was talking about. Luke had brought her, but her behaviour towards Han after a few too many mouthfuls of Reserve had caused the overly imaginative rumour mill to jump into hyper speed and it hadn't slowed down since.

"Do you remember Chewie at my thirtieth birthday?" he smiled at her response, tugging her out of memory and causing the flush to deepen and her to look quickly back down at the mountain of vine seeds in front of her. "Vaguely."

"Well, this will be worse."

He had been right - it was much _much_ worse.

The rain hadn't let up, but in the end, it didn't really matter. The party had gone on regardless, and with so much enthusiasm, Leia wondered if the rain and general grayness of the day was even noticed by the towering wookies around her.

They had been slow with each other that night, the house utterly deserted - everyone out enjoying the raucous party. Leia's hand tingled in remembrance. Limps heavy, kisses dragging across hot, sweat slicked skin. His teeth on her neck, her nails down his back. Unhurried and graceful. Calm and yet, somehow pushing towards something unseen. He had wrapped his arms around her, her legs wound tightly around his hips, fingers threaded through his hair, him breathing into her neck, her name on his lips, whispered heavily over and over. Held her as she fell to pieces in his embrace. Crushed and slumped against him, he had shifted her, coming to rest above her as she chanted incoherently tucked beneath him. The party raged outside, lanterns casting soft light into the night, but for the two of them, there was nothing else in the world. It was almost as if, Leia licked her lips searching for the right way to put into context the depth of the evening, the ghosting memory of the evenings events tingled across her skin, they were whole. For the first time, ever - even - they were _home_. Home; the word expanded and settled into her heart immediately. _Yes_. That was it. That night, the Life Day party still going strong outside their room, together, alone, they had found home. Almost as if-

Her name rang out loudly through the small space of the main cabin, making her jump, snapping her from the heavy fog of recent memory. She clicked the _Falcon's_ intercom button on the wall and answered.

"We're jumping again." Han's voice echoed again.

"Okay. I sent a few messages off already. How long is this jump?"

"Not long. Stand by."

The world seemed to sit perfectly still for a split second, before launching into lightspeed again. Her stomach lurked forward before settling back almost immediately.

**xXx**

He didn't know what he had been expecting. Mainly since he had essentially lived on this hutt-tail of a rock off and on for years, but he was genuinely surprised when he curved around the small asteroid belt, which had guarded the small smuggling moon of Nar Shaddaa since before he he was born, and found the same bleak, dank grimy picture it had always been fall out before them.

Leia had sat behind him, quiet and withdrawn - not unhappily so, but still strangely content and detached.

The _Falcon_ descended towards the surface, smoke and grim thick in the air, curling upwards to baste the world in a hazy dirtiness which Han had only just noticed.

He clicked over the landing gear and tried to quiet his loud worried thoughts. _This was a mistake._ He didn't dare glance at Chewie. Chewie would already know, had voiced this concern. Repeatedly, Han reminded himself grimacing while remembering the whisper-angry arguments he had had with the large wookie sitting ridged beside him since he mentioned this Gods-forsaken place.

Leia stood behind him, and, glancing at Chewbacca who loomed up out of his seat, sauntered over towards the ramp.

**xXx**

Not much had changed in the many years since Han had lived here, the air still held a rancidness about it - thick and heavy. The distinct odor from too many beings in too small a place. It was dark too. Darker than he remembered. It swallowed the outlines of buildings and beings, making everything feel a little too close. A little too much like it used to be.

Han looked down at the small form of a woman tucked into his side, blaster slung low across her hips, eyes watching lazily for trouble - having learned the hard way so many years ago that looking for trouble meant you usually found it. None of this felt right. But, he had rationalized since this ludicrous plan had been suggested, his entire life had been so far made up to feel-bed situations, and look where he was. _But this was different_, his rational side hocked at him. It wasn't just him anymore, and he could no longer afford to ignore the blaring warning alarm blasting across every never.

No. It wasn't just him. The body beside him shifted slightly and he caught a glimpse of worry on her lovely face.

This didn't feel right to her either.

"Well, Captain." She breathed quietly, tucking her hand into the back pocket of his trousers in a brazenly territorial move which was likely more for a show of bravery than anything else, "where too now?"

Chewie barked low from behind him. "Yeah. I think so." he answered his friend and hugged Leia closely for a too-brief moment. "Come on. I know a place."


	17. Chapter 17

_AN: Happy Monday!  
_

_Please leave me a quick comment! They make me ridiculously happy. xox _

* * *

The "place" turned out to be a dingy, run down hotel at the the far end of a long row of bars and taverns. The trio had twisted and wound through the alleyways in a typical Solo Style pattern of obscurity. So familiar was the dance, Leia hadn't noticed they had practically doubled back on themselves several times. Han always did this, especially when he was feeling particularly cautious. It was a good way to get someone off your tail, he had explained to her irritated demand years ago, as he marched her and the ground team she had been sent with back and forth across half the underworld of some forgettable mid-rim planet. The practice had always amused Leia, privately at first, at the time she didn't want him to know he amused her and still now, more outwardly. Han tended to walk the way the flew. Sure of himself, a little too cocky and in a way that made pursuit unlikely.

The Well, as their destination was named, stood huddled between two more dilapidated duracrete structures, half abandoned but still inhabited. The cracking faux stone facade made the small cold space at the pit of Leia's stomach jump solidly into her throat. It screamed of shootouts, holdups and failed plans, misery leaking from it like coolant from a cracked feeder line.

The door hissed in protest as they made their way through the deserted lobby. It may have been called 'The Well', but as far as Leia was concerned it should have been called 'The Hole'. There was no manager, no desk attendant, droid or otherwise. Simpler, she suspected as she watched with wary attention as Han swiped through the payment with one of several disposable credit chips he had kept stacked in the drawer by their bunk on the _Falcon_. He noticed her watching him and winked down at her, causing an amused smile to tug at the corner of her mouth.

Chewie growled low from behind them.

"Yeah yeah." Han answered, not bothering to turn around, instead sliding a different chip quickly through the system and pulling the second dispensed keycard from the rusted slot.

"What? I missed that." Leia asked quietly as Han handed the wookie one of the cards. Chewie huffed and tossed the duffel over his large shoulder, leaving Han to finish sorting out accommodation and Leia watching his retreating form.

"He just wanted his own room."

"Of course-"

"And he wanted to make sure it wasn't next door to ours. He needs his sleep, you know."

"What he _needs_ is a new joke." Leia rolled her eyes and watched the large brown form turn the corner to the turbolift.

"I doubt he was kidding, Sweetheart. Do you want your own key?"

"He's been saying that for five years now. It's old. No, I don't think so. Unless you plan on leaving me stranded somewhere." Han turned and eyed her for a heartbeat before punching the faded console, pulling a second key from the slot. He stepped back from the machine and before stooping to grab his pack once more, he slid the extra card into her back pocket. "I never plan anything, you know that."

**xXx**

"You don't like it." It wasn't a question, and it certainly wasn't surprising. She knew he didn't like it. But they had very little choice in the matter. A watched ship was a valuable ship, and they could hardly do anything more to highlight their presence here. A beat up, stock-looking YT-1300 sitting secured but alone would garner no more notice that any other ship in the busy docking bay. But, an attended ship would bring more unwelcome attention than if she arrived for Senate scantily clad in the the dress she had worn on Telos not all that long ago.

"She'll be fine. She's pretty tough, you know." Leia turned to hide a smile. She couldn't help it. Han's love for the _Falcon_ was infallible, and she had given up being jealous of it long ago. Really, it was ridiculous to be even remotely envious of a ship. He didn't take the bait, instead shed the shirt he had worn for too many hours and crossed to the dimmed window, hands braced on the frame, back tense.

"Yeah." She watched him gaze out towards the docking bays; jaw tense, eyes worried. _Perhaps jealously wasn't entirely ridiculous..._

"Han."

"Hmm?"

"She'll be fine."

"I know. But I hate leaving her."

Leia nodded and pulled herself free from the confines of her jacket. Heat had broken across her skin and the silken camisole was now starting to cling to her.

He hadn't moved. Bare chested and anxious, standing sentiment at the glass. He needed a haircut, she mused, fingers itching to run through the tousled strands. They probably both did, she realized, tugging the two pins away from the base of her neck, braids falling down her back. Dropping the small items on the table as she passed, Leia ran both hands through her hair, shaking out the braids which had been pulled together what felt like days ago. The colour she had gotten crawled through her long tresses their second day in Ahto was starting already to fade, a combination of sun and salt water from long lazy days spent on the resort pools, coppery highlights dying away back into deep chestnut brown.

She came to a stop at the window casing, leaning back against the wall beside him, watching him as her hands traced lightly against the still fresh blaster scorch mark on the rough wall beside her face. He turned to face her, staring hard at her for the span of several heartbeats. Suddenly he lifted her, without warning, pressing her hard against the wall; balancing against the thin worry-worn ledge. One hand gripped the underside of her thigh, the other swept up across her back, gathering the curtain of hair away as he went.

"She'll be fine, Han." she whispered, wanting desperately to wipe the dots of worry flecking his eyes.

"I know." He bent to kiss her.

**xXx**

The fresher had only one half-working light out of the six Leia could count in the dark space, which was fine, since the room did have fresh clean towels. She had expected a repeat of Ryloth, or worse Ziost. They had been without clean towels for nearly a week and she had reached breaking point fairly quickly. Fumbling around in the damp darkness she could tolerate; questionable laundry, not so much.

Dim light sharpened the shadows of her face, plunging her eyes into a deeper darkness.

_Whore._

Her hand shot out and made purchase on the cold tile surface, fingers gripping the end of the raised sink as her brain hissed at her. She shook her head, trying to clear the crisp, angry insults hurled at her by the faded voices in her mind.

Irritation flared inside her heart. Why did she care? It didn't matter. He didn't matter - _they_ didn't matter. She didn't care. What mattered was here and now, her and Han trying to carve out a life together - something which had eluded them for so long already.

She swallowed against the forming lump in her throat. But she did care. And she hated that she did. She had tried, passively for years, actively for the last three months to rid herself of the shadow of insecurity and uncertainly in her own future, her own happiness, which seemed to follow her around like a faint smell. She had been doing okay, until of course, alone together on the roof one morning, Malla had woofed a quiet question Leia herself had been thinking. And suddenly, it was there again.

It had bothered her before, and it again reared it's head. Malla had moved on from the topic after she had stuttered and coughed her way through bland reasoning; never mentioning it again. She tucked her own feelings on the matter aside and had resolved to be happy.

But here she was, standing in front of herself, in a seedy, dilapidated cheap hotel - blaster scoring decorating the walls - on the underbelly world of the smuggling moon, unable to recognize the woman she had become.

It wasn't hard to see, really, she thought unkindly at her tired reflection, they were right. Here you are.

They had three days until Lando's contact would be on-world. Three days to wander and pick up whatever they could by way of information. Both Lando and Karrde had wanted a pipeline for trading, and it seemed that - for what she and Han could gather in their quick dig this evening at the tavern across the road - nothing like that existed. They had, however been able to find out - inadvertently - a tad more useful information about Karrde himself, so much so that Han was nearly set on blasting off and going to meet the elusive man straight after this trade was over.

_Smuggling slut. _

She closed her eyes and shook her head. Hardly creative, she scolded her subconscious as it hurled another long-buried overheard insult at her.

The water ran cold and she splashed a few handfuls on her face before straightening to gaze at her muddied reflection.

After this was over, after they dealt with whatever lay ahead of them here; she would ask him. Maybe then...

**xXx**

_Typical Solo_. She scoffed, watching the door whine close behind the small party.

The blaster hung heavy in her hand.

It couldn't be done tomorrow. Solo was too cautious;_ too aware_.

She had watched them both this evening. The way they moved around each other.

Her hand tightened around the heavy, borrowed blaster's grip.

_Solo. _

No. Tomorrow wouldn't work.

Three days.

Her comm unit hummed. Him again. She clicked off a half ass reply and pushed against the wall after giving one last look to the darkened structure which housed her target.

_Three days._


	18. Chapter 18

_AN: Happy Friday / Happy Weekend!_

* * *

"Karrde, eh?"

Han nodded, taking a long pull on his glass. Leia sat on the tall stool behind him, watching in mock disinterestedness as he chatted up various patrons for the same information. It always amazed her, she mused as she twisted the sugared nuts between her fingers, playing with the small grains before popping them one by one into her mouth. The sugar danced across her tongue, a simple combination she had loved to indulge in since first discovering them so many years ago, in a bar very much the same as the one they were currently in.

She had always loved to watch Han work. It felt so natural. It was second nature to him, people liked him - wanted him. Craved being near him. He used that want and pulled what he needed from them. It was an art he had perfected over so many years on the edge.

"Don't know im' myself," the large woman whizzed and shrugged closer to Han's side, "Heard of im' though."

Han nodded again, not moving as she slide closer still.

Leia crunched another handful of sweet nuts and resisted the urge to wrap herself around him. Claim him.

"Business man."

"That's what I hear." He raised the glass in a casual 'I don't give a damn' movement which used to infuriate her.

"Myddie would know im'."

"Yeah?" He took another mouthful, letting the bitter liquid swirl around his tongue, feeling the burning heat as it traced it's way down his throat. "Does this 'Myddie' know where I could find Karrde. I wanna just... talk to him, ya know?"

"Ya, ya. Course. Myddie knows im'. Better en' me. She met him. Talk'd to im'. She'll be in tomorrow."

The bartender appeared and Han nodded at his glass and back at Leia. She shook her head to the negative and dragged her attention around the bar.

This trolling was getting them no where. Regardless of their feelings on the matter, perhaps actually meeting this illusive Talon Karrde was the only real way to form an opinion. Han would agree with her, begrudgingly. He hated having limited information - especially when the deal involved her in any way. It was sweet. But, she had tried to reason with him Lando was hardly likely to toss them headfirst into something terrible. Maybe they just had to actually trust him. Her crack about him being his friend had dies quickly though, and the mood between the trio had soured further when they got word that Lando's contact wasn't showing up until tomorrow. An unforeseen change of plans - he was stuck on Nal Hutta - which meant they were unfortunately stuck waiting for him.

The last night they had found a helpful older spacer, happy to stare at her intently while reminiscing with Han about the 'good old days' - whatever they happened to be, she hadn't gotten a chance to ask.

Tonight though seemed as if it might be a bust. The woman seated now very closely to Han had been asking the same variation of questions and giving the same array of vague answers for the last half an hour. Leia's back ached from being perched on the stool for too long, and her calves burned from the boots she had been crushed into for the last three nights.

She smirked at herself. Apparently being on vacation for a few months had already made her soft. She hated the tight fitting black sim-leather trousers she had chosen, wishing instead that she had been able to get away with the leggings she had formed a tight love for over the last month especially. But she needed to do laundry and the valet on the Falcon wasn't working right yet. So, she sighed and flicked the nail of her ring finger against her thumbnail a few times in a tellingly irritated movement, she was stuck the way she way.

Chewie had been up to his neck in tangled wires and burned out transmission cables when they had stopped in to check in with him at the docking bay earlier. Han was still rather jumpy and Chewie has been determined to get the Falcon ready to go as soon as they made contact with this mysterious man tomorrow evening.

She hadn't wanted to admit it, especially since Han had already been so unwilling and unhappy about this detour in the first place, but the small panicky voice at the back of her head had chanted at her for the last three days.

They shouldn't be here. They needed to leave.

The blade sheath dug unto her hip and she shifted again. The orange toned woman pulled back from Han, mumbling something to which Han shook his head. The woman glanced over his shoulder at Leia who met her gaze full on and she shrugged, a slight smile tugging at her mouth and bid them both a goodnight.

Han swiveled his stool back to her and raised his brows, half a smile plastered across his face.

"Always making friends." She concluding dryly.

He grinned wider. "She knows Karrde."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"I'm sick of sitting here."

"Let's go." Han tossed a handful of chips onto the battered surface, nodding at the bartender and straightening his shoulders.

"What about Chewie? Do you want to swing by and get him?" She asked sliding off the stool, legs protesting slightly from being folded and ridged far too long.

"Nah. Chewie's big enough and ugly enough to look after himself. He won't be long. Besides," He pulled her to him slowly as they made they way out of the tavern. "I have a few ideas that don't need Chewie's help." His breath was hot in her ear. They crossed the street, traffic light and the burned out lamps on the building beside caste long shadows against the wall of The Well.

They sidestepped a parked speeder and his hand slid across her backside, squeezing her roughly.

She laughed, pushing open the door of the hotel, they fell through the dingy lobby and made it - somehow - into the lift.

"These are so fucking hot." He ground out between clenched teeth, gripping the seat of her pants with both hands, kneading the feeling of leather against her.

"I hate them." She breathed, letting him push her up against the wall.

"In that case, let's get them off," he groaned.

Keycard fumbling in his hands, he slide the strip across the reader, arms still wound around her.

The door slide open, hissing in protest.

Time held steady.

Han dropped. Blue bathed the room.

Leia watched the ground rise up beneath her; felt the rash of wear-worn broken tile against the side of her face. The familiar crushing immobility of the stun blast; and then, as her nerve endings exploded in white cold fire, everything went dark.


	19. Chapter 19

_AN: Happy Week! Han's friends sure do cause him a lot of grief, don't they?  
(Remember when I started this little fic, and I was all full of Disney hope? haha. That's funny. And depressing. _

* * *

One hundred breaths. Leia started counting over again as the shadows around them slowly darkened, blending into nothingness on the floor, in front of her.

_Soon_.

Soon Chewie would be back from the _Falcon_ and he would notice they were gone. She had woken up slightly after Han, worried and taking a quick inventory of her body. Her ankles hurt. Cramped as they were in tall, tight boots, flexed uncomfortably under herself. They had whispered at each other under the sound of footfall clicking closer caused them to stop.

"Well, well, well. Look who I found."

Leia stiffened, head pounding out an imposing staccato pattern. She didn't know the voice, but she would know that tone anywhere. Mocking. Dangerous. The impersonal edge hissing across the repetitive words made the small hairs on the back of neck tingle in warning. Han stiffened beside her and cursed under his breath. Leia closed her eyes carefully, trying in vain to block out the relentless pain which continued to spasm in the back of her mind. _Oh perfect. Just fucking perfect. _She shifted her hands, binders digging into the soft skin on her wrists. They had gotten careless. Loose. Stupid. And now, she berated herself as she twisted her hands around in the tight confines, here they were.

Her heart jumped, as if worried, fluttering in her chest. Flashbacks of their horrible mission-gone-wrong on Ord Mantell, playing in disjointed succession. Her palms moistened. She beat back the worry for a moment, desperate to orientate herself in the murky light. Worry would only weigh her down. This was not a time for panic. She needed a clear head - they both did.

Barren and sterile, with a faint metallic taste of blood; the shell space they were kneeling in was cold, the echoing of their captor's footsteps bouncing solidly off the walls surrounding them.

_We could die here,_ Leia suddenly thought, unable to help herself. She glanced quickly to her left, watching realization was creeping over Han's face. He knew this person. This woman, by the sound of the voice. This was bad. Something pushed forward, powerful yet timid. Buried and glossed over, it reared up again, tickling her brain with unleashed potential.

Solid, light footsteps paced into the space behind them. "Salla." Han's voice was clipped and controlled, but she was able to catch a faint tint of surprise buried deep in the one word.

_Salla_? She didn't know that name.

"Han Solo." There was a touch of reverence to the mysterious woman's voice which was equally frightening and misplaced.

His jaw twitched, Leia caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. His tell. _Shit_.

"And, this must be the little orphaned Princess. You're still lookin' after her I see. So kind of you."

"What's this about, Zend."

The unseen voice clicked her tongue in warning; playing with them like a young nexu would toy with a cornered velt.

"Girl's gotta eat."

"Kidnapping and hostage taking; not your usual style." Han answered, letting a small hint of a drawl seep into his voice.

_Excellent,_ Leia hissed at him in her head. She couldn't have imagined this morning when they set out for the day, that she would have to deal with this. Her head pounded. She was becoming very quickly tired of Han's 'friends'.

"I suppose not. Perhaps this is my way of dealing with roguish ex-fiance's…" She let the word hang in the air as she finally stepped in front of the prone, kneeling pair. Leia didn't move, years of training kept the surprise off her features.

Inside, however, she raged. He had never mentioned this deranged woman before. Not once in the near eight years she had know him had he ever spoke of her. Nor had he thought to warn her that maybe one day, a murderous black haired ex-smuggler, ex-fiancee might break into their hotel room, quick shoot both of them just when they had gotten complacent. No, she though furiously as she shifted her weight slightly, rough stones digging into her knees through the stifling leather, there hadn't really been any reason to tell her any of this. Expect for the fact that she was now kneeling on the cold, unforgiving ground of a empty hanger, blood drying at the corner of her mouth, dirt and grime scraped across her face, at the mercy of said crazy woman. Someone who had already succeeded in trapping them, and would very likely hurt them after she keep them locked up for several hours in the dark. He had also - conveniently - forgotten to mention he had been engaged to this particular unhinged woman.

_Engaged_?

No, he had never mentioned her... She would have remembered a conversation like that. But nothing. Not a word.

"I expected her to be taller." Salla turned her attention towards Leia again, her voice worryingly conversational. "She's pretty though, if you like obvious, delicate beauty."

Leia ground her teeth tight together. He had seriously almost married this woman? Were there others? Salla choose that moment to step forward towards her and reach down, catching a loose strand of Leia's hair around her finger, twirling it gently before pulling ever so slightly, the veiled half-threat hanging in the air between them. Han was talking, voice becoming rougher with concerned agitation. Leia couldn't hear him, his voice blending into the slow and steady pulsating of her own angry heart.

_Engaged?_

The small bloom of darkness grew slightly bigger.

_This woman? How long had they been together? What had happened?_

"What do you want, Salla?" Now impatient, Han's voice took on a definite edge.

"Oh, I just want what the rest of us want." She evaded, eyes still trained on Leia, fingers playing with the curl.

"How 'bout you enlighten us?"

"Did you know," Salla rose slowly, letting the tendril fall carefully away from her finger and paced again, this time walking around the couple in a wide circle. "That there is a bounty on you?"

Han rolled his eyes for show. He actually hadn't known that. "There's always a bounty on me."

"True." She sank down in front of Leia again, eye level this time, large eyes boring into the top of Leia's head. She refused to meet her eyes, instead concentrating on breathing deeply and keeping the darkness at bay. "But what I mean is, my darling, you're not alone on it. There are... conditions... for the you," Salla paused, "and her. Romantic really, isn't it?"

Han's head snapped around. _That wasn't good. Leia too? Why?_ He tried to keep the casual tone in his voice as his mind raced. "Oh yeah?" Too late. She had seen him, the surprise and the worry. She'd sunk him. "Oh yes." Salla continued, watching Leia intently. She reached out and let her hand hover for a brief moment at Leia's temple.

"Does he call you 'Baby'? He always called me 'Baby'," Salla whispered, slowly dragging the tips of her fingers sharply down across Leia's cheek, scoring light nail marks against the pale of her skin.

Leia breathed. The darkness grew. _No. _Dormant for so long, it itched, pulsed and pulled against the fragile cage of her tattered soul. Kept at bay, now aching to be released. It yearned to help her. To push this insignificant woman aside, kill her, destroy her. _No_. Leia shook her head again and choked out a half sob. She couldn't risk that. Not now. Not _anymore_.

"Get away from me." She hissed.

"She really is lovely, Han."

"Leave her alone, Salla!" Han shouted, dropping the calm entirely, watching instead the sheer act of will war across Leia's beautiful face. _Where the fuck was Chewie?_

"It's funny. All this time, I thought you two were a publicity stunt. You know, a sort of call to arms, we're all the same, fight the same fight kinda of deal... " she trailed off, head tilting to catch Leia's eyes, glazed from effort to keep the darkness at bay.

"Get away from me." She repeated, voice steady despite herself, words remarkable slow and calculated.

"Still," Salla continued, louder now, commanding the room once more and rising to stand, toying with the safety on her blaster. "Here we are. You're worth a lot. Private bounty, unlisted point of contact. Multiple conditions. That's expensive, you know, I'm impressed - and a little turned on. Who did you screw over to get something like that?" her head turned to glance at the prone form of the Alderaanian princess, eyes shut and breathing shallow to her left, and smiled wickedly. "Or," she dropped her voice knowingly. "Perhaps it's more a matter of who you're _still _screwing…"

"Is that what you're doing here, Salla? Collecting?" _Any minute now, Chewie!_

"Oh, no. I'm just holding. I have a buyer lined up."

Salla was smart, she hadn't changed much over the last twelve or so years since Han had seen her. Since he had left one day, packed and jumped to hyperspace, never looking back. But she wasn't - and never had been - Leia-smart. There was a way out of here. There had to be. But Han's first concern was the quiet small figure kneeling uncomfortable and ridged beside him. She had been able to keep whatever whispered darkly at her at bay, perhaps even made some progress towards fighting it off altogether. But this was bad. Very bad.

"The money I am making on this deal is fairly impressive. Someone dearly wants Han Solo and his little spacer-slut." Leia winced and Han growled.

"Enough!" he bellowed, twisting his wrists raw in a vain effort to free himself.

"Oh come now, Solo. I'm not saying anything we aren't all thinking. Even she knows it's true. Look at her."

Tears leaked on their own volition from her eyes. Angry. Desperate.

Han was yelling now, voice rough with rage. Salla pressed the heel of her boot against Leia's lower back, applying subtle pressure, causing the muscles to scream in protest.

_Breathe. _

Han's rage filled her ears, now pleading with the towering woman.

"In any case, you're to be delivered 'in form, alive'; Condition One. This little whore is to be 'disposed of, permanently'; Condition Two. "

Leia's mind blanked, blinking at her pleasantly, numbing her senses.

_This was it. _

After everything they had fought for. Everything which lay ahead of them. All they had survived and conquered. _This_.

"Salla. Please-"

"SHUT UP, SOLO!"

"Salla, listen to me. Let her go. You can have me. Just let her go."

"No, I need this deal, Solo." Salla's teeth clenched.

"You're not a collector Sal, and you're certainly not a killer. Please. Just stop for a minute. I'm sorry. Sal! Listen to me! I'm sorry I left. I-"

"You think I still care about that?!" She shrieked and spun around to face him. "You really think that I still give a shit that you humiliated me?!" The desperation in her voice gave her away. She did still care. A lot.

"Sal, I'm sorry. But please, please let her go. You don't have to hurt her."

"Oh, I'm not going to hurt her, Han." Salla pulled the small blaster and pressed the barrel hard against Leia's temple, the metal disturbingly warm against her skin. Han was screaming now. Words melting together as Leia's soul bloomed and darkened. "I'm going to kill her. And you're going to watch."


	20. Chapter 20

_AN: Thanks for all the amazing feedback! It helps keeps me motivated! Comments and love make me write faster - just sayin. And no. They are certainly NOT out of it yet. Not by a LOOOONG shot. _

* * *

_Sunshine. It was warm on her shoulders. Leia turned, watching carefully; her mind suddenly elsewhere. The harsh duracrete under her knees had disappeared, leaving her here. _

_Home. _

_Wind gentled around her. It blew the loose, wanton strands across her face, clouding her eyes with billowing chestnut clouds. Peaceful._

_Leia loved this dream - if that's what this was, perhaps she was dead. Killed by the hand of her lover's jilted ex-lover. Tragic. Ironic even. But no matter now. _

_She had come home, for whatever reason. It was her happy place. The dream she loved to have. Reoccurring to leave her slightly homesick and content in the same instant upon waking. It was a dream had only ever had while tucked in, safe beside Han. Alone, nightmares plauged her, marring her nights in torment. But warm, safe and loved, this dream was the dream she was awarded. _

_Leia wished, every so often, that someone would find her here. Her parents, her aunts, Winter, or even now, more than anyone else, Han. But she was always alone - which was fine - left to observe a life she would never get back._

_This dream. She recognized it from the very moment she opened her eyes, awaking in the netherworld of endless green and light and quiet._

_Sweet grass beneath her feet - vivid green as she always remembered it to be - softly folded under her as she shifted, curling her bare toes into the soft blades. She could feel it, in the memory of dreams she had had so many times before. Home. The lake beside her sat like glass. Untouched. She would stand here for hours, until finally waking, watching the world she loved and called home simply exist around her. _

_"Leia."_

_Familiar. Lost. _

_The voice startled her. Hidden in half a shadow of a cloud which didn't exist above them in the clear sky. "__Father?" Her hands tingled in longing, eyes pricked. _

_The figure in front of her stepped back, shaking his head slowly._

_"Father!" She pressed forward, hand outstretched. No, don't leave!_

_"No." The tall straight figure abolished her. The wind around her picked up, chilling as it blew harder, whipping her eyes with the loose mass of curls._

_No. This is different. This was wrong. This wasn't peace. This wasn't why she came here._

_"Wait! Father! Please!" She stumbled on the once green grass beneath her feet, now browning before her eyes; dying. Warning scented the air. Acid and dangerous. No. This was wrong. _

_"You are not mine."_

_"DAD!" She screamed as the figure stepped away again, the earth crunching under his retreating feet._

_"Traitor." He whispered and the world around her exploded._

Leia's chest contracted and she gasped a thunderous shuddering breath. The barrel of Salla's blaster lifted quickly away from the side of her face. Han's voice, loud and thundering, rang out from beside her. Words blended together as Leia fought to press the anger down.

He was bargaining with the angry, hostile woman. Yelling at her; pleading. Salla screamed at him to shut up -stop talking. But still, Han pressed on. Not for his life, the tone becoming more and more desperate, but for hers. Always for her.

"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOU OR THAT PERFECT PRINCESS CUNT OF HERS!" Salla was frenzied by now, swiftly kicking Han in the ribs with the thick sole of her boot before pressing the barrel again against her victim. "Any last words?"

Fire lit across her entire being. Power. Raw. _This_, her brain hissed at her, _is what we've been waiting for. Trust me. Trust... us... _

Aware now of her own breathing, Leia's skin burned and pulsed.

She opened her eyes, small pebbles starting to dance and ping against the floor directly beneath her body.

"I am the daughter of Darth Vader."

The words thundered slowly from her, eyes rising to meet the now startled face of Salla Zend. Clear, slow and calculated - adding to the terrifying edge of malice and opacity filtering into the small dark space.

The universe hung for a moment; as if to decide where the precarious stack cards should fall.

Han whispered her name.

Air exploded around them, white-blue energy snapping and crackling through the air, the eye of the swirling storm turning around them in a turbulent haze.

Salla slammed back into the console across the room, body contorted and crumpling to the floor, blaster knocked out of her grip; exploding in the air in front of her stunned face.

Leia punctuated the statement by wrenching at the binders, which ruptured in a crackle of sparks, as if suddenly hit with a fuse torch. She stood, knees protesting, to cover the ground between herself and their captor in several hard strides. Grabbing the dazed woman by the back of the head, twisting fingers painfully into her long hair, Leia snarled, not recognizing her own voice. "If you knew anything about me, you would have realized before now that threatening me is not wise. Now, you are going to tell me exactly who hired you. And you're going to do it quickly." To emphasize her point, Leia curled her fingers suddenly, sharpening the grip she had on Salla, making the older woman cringe and hiss in pain.

"I don't know why the hit was called in." Salla whimpered, rising slightly to alleviate the pain from Leia's grip; wincing against the pressure of the console at her back.

"Did I ask that?" Leia whispered softly, mouth close to the woman's ear; scaring herself with the intensity of her rage. "Did I?" She repeated and jerked her arm back, her small hold-out blade quickly at Salla's throat.

"No." Salla stammered, eyes darting between Leia's face and the hand which held the blade steady to her pulsing throat. "I'm sorry."

"Not yet, you're not. I will not ask you again, _Baby_." She snarled the pet-name and pressed the blade harder, a trickle of blood gathering against the flat metal.

"I didn't get his name. Only his code. I already called him. They're coming."

"Leia." Han's voice snapped her attention away from the now terrified woman. She almost had forgotten about him, still kneeling - breathing laboured - at the centre of the whiplash she had unleashed. "We have to move. Quickly."

"Lucky you." Leia whispered harshly, dropping the blade in quick exchange for the small blaster still strapped to Salla's upper leg. She toggled the setting to Stun and caulked it under the woman's chin. "I'm out of time. You better make sure I never see you again." And pulled the trigger.

**xXx**

As far as bounty collectors went, Salla's attempt had been rather poorly executed. She'd lost her targets and hadn't bothered to free them of any comms or weapons either. Leia had whipped the blood from the blade across the prone woman's jacket before striding back to Han, hissing in pain near the centre of the hurricane she had unintentionally unleashed across the deserted locker. Han stood, cringing slightly before tugging on her arm, leading her out the backdoor to the warehouse. The crept down the alley and ducked through several side-streets. Leia had lost track of the twists they had taken when Han finally stopped, leaning back up against the wall of whatever building was behind them.

But regardless, the bounty was active, and the longer they stayed the worse it would get - each knew that from far too personal experience. The problem was - a private bounty was hard to trace. The price on both of them before - Empire and Hutt - everyone knew. It was open. This, this was secret. And worse yet - they had become careless. Acting as they would have only a week ago. This wasn't a holiday. _This_ was their life now. Someone wanted Han, wanted to hurt him, deeply. And they didn't want her around to interfere.

"You okay?"

Leia shook her head, thoughts still spinning. She didn't know how she felt at the moment; it wasn't that simple. "You?"

"Yeah." He wasn't she knew that, could tell from the way he carried himself. Cracked ribs most likely the matter.

"There's knitter and tape on the Falcon." Leia whispered, resisting the urge to look for herself. There wasn't anything she could do at the moment anyway. Han nodded and pulled the commlink from his chest pocket. He punched a series of codes and waited. He didn't need to wait long. The comm burst alive with the worried-angry growling of a very disgruntled wookie.

"Where are you?" Han interrupted his friend's ranting.

"The hotel was compromised and-" More growling, this time quieter.

"Yes, we're both fine. Now." Han looked down at the woman beside him, who - if it was even possible - seemed to have gotten remarkably smaller in the last half an hour since they kicked the door of that deserted warehouse down and fled; chaos and destruction behind them. She was shutting down. She was shutting down quickly.

"We'll meet you there."

"Falcon?" she asked, pulling away from the rough wall. Han nodded, jaw set.

**xXx**

"Thanks Chewie." Leia took her pack from the large wookie and bundled the solid weight tight against herself, hauling it onto the bed in the main bunkroom.

They had blasted back into orbit quickly, and the longer she had sat in the cockpit, the angrier she had gotten. It was absurd, it didn't make sense, but the more she tried not to be angry, the angrier she got. Until, finally as Han was typing a quick message to Lando, she'd had enough.

"I am such an idiot." she snapped harshly, resisting the urge to kick the back of Han's chair.

"Huh? No you're not. What makes you say that?" He finished the hasty correspondence and spun his seat around. Chewie became very interested in the coolant levels, eyes stubbornly forward. So much like before.

"You! I've known you for over _eight_ years and I _still _have no idea who you really are, do I? What kind of a _moron _falls in love with a man she doesn't know!?"

"Now wait-"

"What else do I not know about you!?" Defensive Leia had re-appeared, disapproving and angry. Sitting behind him as if it were six years ago, bitching loudly at something he could have no hope of controlling. He'd nearly forgotten her. _Nearly_.

"It's really not how it sounds." He muttered.

"Engaged!? To _that_ crazy bitch?"

Chewie stood quickly and strode passed the couple, neither looking away from the other, and exited the cockpit. _Coward_. Han thought bitterly, although at the same time wishing he could follow his friend - flee the coming onslaught of questions and misplaced anger. _Well_, he had to be honest with himself, _perhaps not entirely misplaced._ This was quickly spiraling out of his control. He knew Leia far too well to know she was actually angry at him. She was scared. Scared, tired and vulnerable. Something she hadn't been in years - not with him.

"Look. We were together for a while. It was fine, it worked. But then one day she started telling people we we're getting married. It wasn't in my cards, so..." he looked down for a moment, hands clenching into loose fits, watching the gloves stretch and flex over his knuckles. He sighed and straightened up, "So, I left. And I never saw her again. Not until today, that is."

"A while." She whispered, fight draining out of her as quickly as it had appeared.

"Yeah. Look, I was still a kid. She wasn't what I wanted."

"A kid." She repeated again, eyes unfocused.

"Look, Leia." The quietly reverent sound of name brought her attention back to the man sitting across from her. The man who, up until a couple of hours ago, she knew - deep in her bones - _knew_. "I'm sorry. Maybe I should have told you, but..." he shrugged almost helplessly and it thawed her heart a little. "I never think about it. I never wanted that."

_That_. Marriage? Should she clarify? Did it matter? He took her hands, kneading them softly between his. Maybe it didn't. Not really. She sighed. _Damn_. Today was supposed to be better than this.

"I love you. Leia, I'm sorry."

She sighed, watching his face. Maybe it _shouldn't_ matter - maybe they had been together too long, seen too much, fought too hard for it to matter. _But_, Leia thought as she watched the golden flecks in his eyes spark and fade in time with the readout screen lights, that was the problem - it did.

"Come on," standing, socked feet soft against the metal, she pulled gently on his hands. "I'd better take a look at your ribs."

He had followed her, stopping to talk with Chewie in hushed voices when the furry co-pilot had handed her the pack she had left behind in the hotel room. He'd gone back for it. For her. The gesture made her smile. The door hissed shut behind him, lights dim, he turned to face her in the quiet familiarity of their bedroom.

"So," she pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes slightly. "Tell me. Are there any other ex-wives, ex-fiancees, ex-assassins, ex-crazies out there that I should know about?"


	21. Chapter 21

_AN: Happy Friday! I have a designation exam next week - no more posts until I ace it!_

* * *

She left him, laying irritated and sullen, on the bunk while she riffled through the small fresher storage for boneknit and tape. Han's ribs weren't broken, but the darkened bruising which had started to bloom across the side of this torso worried her. Muffled talking halted her quest for a moment, and she ducked her head slightly, straining to make out what was being said. Han's hushed murmuring came and went with the static rasping of inter-system comm chatter she had been used to - a lifetime ago.

Leia pressed closer to the door, tape and knitter hanging limpy - forgotten for the moment - at her side.

"...worried... should have... incredible... almost killed... couldn't... very... don't know how... thanks... will... Luke."

_Luke? _

"No." she breathed out, voice sharp, eyes wide.

"... back home... Station... Lando... over my head... her father... will help... call back tomorrow."

The distinct sound of the termination snapped her out of eavesdropping.

"You called my brother?!" She pounded the door access with the side of her fist, hissing at him as she pushed through into the familiar room, voice high and irrational.

"What was I supposed to do!" He shouted back, raising up - wincing as he did - to stand and tower over her.

"Oh, I don't know," Leia hissed sarcasm dripped like venom from her, they were back to this were they, spitting and circling each other. "How about try actually talking to me! Or maybe not having crazy ex-fiancées or how about," she stabbed an accusatory finger into his chest, "clear the room before pushing us both into it!"

Han stepped back suddenly as if she had slapped him, bumping up against the low edge of the bed, eyes flashing quickly with hurt before hardening as they use to do. He ran a hand through his too-long hair, frustrated. "So this is my fault?"

The deflation in his voice mixed with the sight of his bare bruised chest was as if cold water had been doused over her. Dropping her gaze, ashamed, Leia shook her head, tracing the lettering on the injection bottle clutched in her hands, voice tiny in the already small space. "No."

They stood, a standoff of sorts, until her took a tentative step towards him; a peace offering. "Come're." he spoke softly, watching with a tightening heart as her eyes alighted in something close to relief.

Han gathered her to him, feeling the smallness of her against him; knowing the power which lay, leashed and straining under her soul.

"It's not your fault either, you know that right?" He asked close to her hair.

She didn't, and he knew that. After she yelled at him, she would blame herself. Annoyed at letting her guard down, at becoming a vulnerable target. At getting caught. It was the same old song they had danced around for years. She was quick to accuse him - it was easy, and usually fair - but even quicker to turn onto herself. He couldn't bear to watch that again. Especially now. Luke's worried warning still echoing in his heart. He couldn't afford to regret calling Luke, there was too much at stake. Because now, as he inhaled the soft scent oh her hair, he understood. He had seen the true power of the bedlam warring inside Leia's heart. The power and the force she had hidden from everyone - himself included.

Luke was right - there was very little he could do from his present location. But Han knew Leia better than Luke did, and he knew more about coaxing the broken pieces of this remarkable and fragile woman back together. There was room for both, Han determined as he ran a hand down Leia's back. He knew there was.

At that moment, Leia pushed away from him and gestured to to the bunk. "Here, lay down again."

"I'm fine." He argued again, and again she sighed tiredly, rolling her eyes.

"You're not. Lay down."

He grumbled, more for show than anything else, truth be told - his side throbbed in time with his heartbeat and the sensation was starting to make him ill.

Knitting wasn't on Han's top ten list of enjoyable medical treatments, and by the third injection he had started fidgeting.

"Lay still!" Leia abolished him, pressing as gently as she could above the darkened bruising.

"I can't! Damn it, that hurts!" He barked, annoyed.

"It hurts here?" She asked, furring her brow and laying a hand on the skin above the place she was working on.

"Yes! It _all_ hurts."

"You're being impossible. You have to lay still! If you don't lay still, the knit doesn't take. You know this!"

"Let me up."

"No. Two more," she held up the small vials for added show. "And you're done."

"You may have missed this in Rebel Princess School, but women are supposed to be compassionate." He forced through clenched teeth.

"You've known the wrong kinds of women. Lay still."

Han grimaced. It was hard to argue with her when she was right.

"So? Where to now?" She asked quietly, her breath soft and warm on his side as she concentrated on healing him.

"Well. We can't go back to Nar Shaddaa - not for a while at least." Leia raised an eyebrow at that and reached for the next injection, lining it up between his ribs before continuing.

"No. I guess not."

"We need to jump around a bit. I sent a message to Lando. Void Station's close. We'll meet his contact there tomorrow morning. In and out - real quick." He winced then winked at her; leering with great effort.

"Charming." She muttered, not able to stop the small smile which tugged at the corner of her mount, withdrawing the tip of the needle. He had always been one to lighten the mood through untimely innuendos.

"Last one" she whispered, more to herself than to her uncooperative patient. "Void station - sorry," she pressed the last knitter injection into his side, hating that he winced in pain from it every time she did so. "I didn't think that was still operating."

Han waited until she withdrew the needle before exhaling deeply - earning him an 'I-told-you-not-to-move' glare from Leia - "Not officially, it's not. But we can land there."

"Overnight?"

"No. We'll land and meet him straight away. We need to attract as little attention as possible for now."

"True." Leia straighten and gathered the discarded medical supplied to her. "So we're here for tonight?" Han nodded.

"Good. Stay there - don't move."

Han grimaced, He hated being hurt around Leia.

"So we'll be jumping all night?" asked from the hallway as she returned from the hold carrying new supplies.

"Nah, I don't want to stress the 'drive. We'll make a few more jumps then sleep in the gap overnight."

Leia nodded, sitting carefully beside his feet, hand resting lightly on his socked ankle. "I'm sorry. For what I said, I didn't mean it. It's not your fault. That was unfair."

"Thanks."

"What did Luke say?" She asked, voice dropping several levels to a whisper.

"He wants us on Yavin. He... _felt..._ something."


	22. Chapter 22

_**Hey everyone, **_

_**Just a quick note: **_

_**I will be taking a break after this chapter. My family is reeling from the tragic, sudden death of my step-brother. **_

_**Thanks, and I know you'll all understand. This is so much shorter than I wanted it to be - it's what I had written so far. **_

_**Hug your family. God bless. **_

* * *

Luke had 'feelings' all the time. Some of them legitimate, most not.

_It doesn't have to mean anything, _Leia tried to console herself; laying in the dark, trying fruitlessly to fall asleep. He had bombarded her with his 'feelings' for years. Ever since she had first met him, Luke had always been an open book, contrasting so sharply to Han's closed up, crusty exterior, it had often amused her. The young optimist and his cynical older friend. But, the more she got to know Han - the real Han, the Han who had been awarded both Bloodstripe classes, the Han who signed up for every mission she was leading, who had stuck around to bandage her up, annoy her into staying alive and who ultimately gave her back to herself - the more she saw the cracks on his hard exterior shell. He was broken like she was. And she liked that more than she liked the idealness which Luke held for the world around him.

Truth be told; she had been in love with Han far longer than she would ever admit - even now. But he frightened her. She knew, intimately, on some other level, that if she allowed herself to love him - neither would ever been the same again. Funny really, she flipped over inhaling his comfortably familiar scent as she buried her face on his side of their bunk, because here they were.

Han was with Chewbacca in the cockpit, coming through one last jump before hanging overnight in the gap - which (as it turned out) was a smuggling reference to the wide blank space between the Bothan systems and the edge of Hutt space through the mid-rim sector. Lightyears wide, a ship could theoretically find a small corner of nothingness and shut down for a while without anyone happening across them. Leia had her doubts as it seemed trouble way always finding them, but she kept that to herself. And judging by the banging and distant grumbling from down the corridor, a similar disagreement was going on between pilot and copilot.

Han had sat watching her closely, examining her in a way he hadn't employed for a long while. Waiting, as it seemed, for her to react to Luke's request of them.

She had brushed it off with a casual shrug and overly dramatic eyeroll. Instead of replying, she had run tired sore fingers through Han's hair, watched his eyes drift closed, tracing the small scar on his chin with the side of her thumb.

They had stayed like that for a while, until finally she stood, had him stand while she wrapped the taping around his torso. Another hour or so and the damage would be well on it's way to healed.

He had kissed her lightly before he left to handle the first jump, leaving her slightly adrift, alone in a place so familiar the space seemed to have settled into her bones. Standing alone, looking at the closed door she waiting, semi-conscience of the fact that she was still counting her breaths. She berated herself while pulling the sweat-stick clothes from her aching body; dropping them in a slow trail to the fresher. The water was hot - at least that was working - and the tank was full, having been fully stocked before they had been forced to flee the small moon.

Tile cool against her cheek, hot water down her back, she rested the side of the face against the wall. Automatic timing valve clicked over finally and the water cascading scathingly down upon her switched off abruptly. Steam clouded the small space, dim lighting casting obscure shadows in the small space. It reminded her sharply of Bespin. Of the platform. Of loss and pain and hopelessness. Of Han's eyes and Lando regret and Chewbacca's raging grief... But mostly, vision narrowing and the room spun slightly, it reminded her of Vader. Sharp acidity rose against the back of her throat. Fingers searched frantically across the wall, scrambling for the overhead lighting activation, desperate to chase away the looming reminder of today.

_Vader. _

_Father. _

_Traitor. _

Lights sprang to life above her and she ran a small towel across the mirror.

Her mother's eyes. Wasn't that what Luke had said? Brown, like our mother. He had known that, somehow; believed that it mattered. Her mother's eyes and her father's soul. Leia peered closely at her face, searching for something... anything... which would help her reconcile what she was, what she had done and what she desperately wanted to do.

She had wanted to run, but perhaps that wasn't an option any longer. Han hadn't believed so, standing beside her on the towering walkway of Kashyyyk, hair damp from the sodden rain. He had been worried for her then, months ago now, quiet and concerned. Asking her a question she hadn't been prepared to answer. And now, her eyes searched her reflection closely, that question had crackled into destruction today. She had wanted vengeance. Something in her blood sang for it. Needed it. Craved it.

"Leia?" Han's voice echoed into the bunkroom.

"I'm here." Her voice cracked.

"Is there any hot water left?"

"Maybe," she smirked, hiding her thoughts again, leaning back against the small sink, towel wrapped around herself, skimming the tops of her thighs. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm going to have shower..." He came towards her, so large in the small space, standing an arm length away, slowly striping away the clothing of the last horrible hours.

"That's not what I asked." she interjected.

"Then I'm going to have you." His voice dropped another notch as he stepped towards her and ran a hand along the edge of the towel, fingers trailing teasingly across her exposed skin - skill pink from the heat of the water moments ago. The tightness in her lower belly turned again.

"Han," There was so much to talk about. They needed a plan. They needed - he kissed her neck just then, hot and demanding, she lost direction, instead, clutching to him as if he were her only anchor in a tumultuous world.

"I know. Later." Breathing pleasured, the words heaved from him. The towel dropped to the floor and she was pulling him into the stall with her, water activating as she slammed the controls lightly with her elbow. His weight held her solidly against the cool tile, hands wound in her hair, pulling her head back, exposing her throat to him.

"Han, please." She begged.

"What, tell me what you want, Princess." voice becoming more and more ragged, mouth dragging across her pulse.

"Fuck me. Please." Han opened his eyes and gathered the presence of mind to halt his ministrations for a moment.

"Open your eyes." he demanded gently, running both thumbs down her face.

Brown met hazel slowly.

"It's me, Sweetheart."

Brown eyes widened, nervous. _Shit_.

"I love you." He whispered, voice beseeching. "Let me love you."


	23. Chapter 23

_Happy Monday! _

_AN: I would like to thank everyone for their kindness in the last few weeks. I have failed miserably in replying back to all of the wonderful, lovely PM's and comments I have received. Thank you for your prayers, we sure needed them.  
__xox -Z__  
_

* * *

Steam curled upwards, fogging the viewscreen before him. Lifting away from the mug in translucent sweeping clouds. One moment there; then gone. Like a breath of warm air on a cool night.

Mesmerized, he sat. Caf cooling as he looked passed it, watching nothing though the swirls of thin steam.

Void Station's coordinates blinked slowly on the screen to his left. Their next destination. Blinking steady.

Again.

Again.

Waiting. Patient. Like a sim-played sabbac hand; waiting for his call, unaware of time or the emotional upheaval suffered at the hands of memory and fate mere hours ago.

Blue lights contrasting too sharply with the dim of the vacant cockpit. Han turned away to shield his eyes; agitated. Steam wisped sharply at the movement before settling, curling quietly again across his vision.

Leia's face flashed again before his eyes. He ran the tips of his fingers across the scar on his chin.

He hadn't called the jump yet. Preferring instead to hang in limbo for as long as possible. The unknown held a certain calming serenity for him - it always had. And now, with the space between himself and Leia growing seemingly greater every passing moment; he hoped, against everything he knew about Leia - and women in general for that matter - that perhaps limited space and unlimited time would heal and mend whatever it was that was festering under the calm controlled surface.

Making no move to touch the caf in front of him. It would cool, but no matter. He would heat it again; a never ceasing cycle this evening.

The ship held steady, nose pointed towards an unsure future.

So many variables. Too many moving parts.

They would meet the contact at Void tomorrow at 1100 hours, meet him; lift off. And then…

The small steady blue light caught his eye again. Teasing him. Pushing for a decision which would move them in a direction he couldn't navigate. He couldn't see it. He wanted action. Something to spur him on. Something tangible. Something to fight against - or for. A straight fight. Even and fair.

His hands trembled with a sudden spike in adrenaline.

What he had witnessed back on Nar Shaddaa had spooked him. More than that - it terrified him to his core. The power she had, the anger displayed and the calm manner in which she had wreaked her havoc on the threat disquieted him. Not that he wasn't impressed or even happy that she had saved them; but to save anyone - especially him - and risk losing herself was something he never had wanted for her.

There was something larger going on, this wasn't about Salla. This wasn't about the New Republic and all of their shit. This wasn't even _really_ about him; having been in Leia's line of fine enough to know that much. He recognized it, the exhausted pain of bearing too much all herself. Too selfless and inherently good, she never had been one to trouble anyone else with her problems. For as long as he knew her, she had been wrapped tightly. Wound up in whatever self-preservation she had. Over time, he had found a way through that outer shell, only to discover an ever more complicated compilation of fear, hope, love and worry. Her past in war with her present and even larger, fighting against whatever future she felt she couldn't avoid.

He sighed, tracing the mug rim with the side of his thumb, still not drinking. It had lost it's appeal somehow.

He wished, for what may have been the hundredth time since they left Manaan nearly a week ago, that Luke were here.

Luke had a way of drawing Leia out of herself. Something Han had always secretly - and occasionally not so secretly - envied.

Han turned back to gaze out the viewscreen, the gaping darkness echoing his soul.

She was shutting him out.

Either for her sake or for his; but there could be no other opinion. He had seen this before - to varying degrees. Damaged as she was, time and time again he was witness that slow closing of her heart. His constricted tightly in protest. He wouldn't lose her. Not now. Not ever. Especially not over this.

He had escaped her silence earlier that evening; hours ago now. Had left her in the lounge with fresh made caf and Chewbacca for company. Chewie had produced a deck of grungy cards from one of the overhead bins before settled next to her on the bench. Blue eyes met his for a moment before snapping down a pair of cards and yelping. Leia had laughed at the childish game and took her half of the stack from him. It was one of the games she had played with the large wookie on the way to Bespin - what felt now like several lifetimes ago. A quick-draw for the highest card. It was ridiculous and pointless - they had played it for hours on end. Mindless as it was, a perfect distraction. He had watched them carefully for a long moment. Watched the hair at the nape of her neck sway heavily in it's containment. Standing apart from the scene - it felt like so long ago. Back to where they didn't know what to say. Couldn't decide what to do to connect in the way they needed it.

Han had nodded lightly at his friend, eyes flicking worriedly to the slender form curled up at the other side of the table.

She hadn't answered him, eyes wide and impossible to read, clinging tightly to his frame in the small fresher space. Instead, she had pushed slowly away, hand light on his chest, and slipped passed him, mumbling about clothes and socks while avoiding his gaze. He has stood, watching the place by the wall she no longer occupied, listening instead to the light rustling from the closet behind the closed door. He had taken a silent, deep breath. Hands gripping the front of the small sink. Blooded pounded in his ears. Breathy words echoed pleading and demanding, echoed through the now empty space.

_Fuck me._

It was unnerving. He moved then, quietly excusing himself and stowing away to the cockpit, needing a small portion of space.

That wasn't them. He couldn't do that to her; couldn't do that to himself.

She had wanted something; something he could no longer pretend to or even was even able to give. She wanted - or maybe perhaps needed - to use him. To have him use her. To escape for a small measure of time.

But they weren't like that. Never had been.

And it was wrong.

A life time ago, a life which included women like Salla, his disgusted brain hurled at him, he would have been fine with that, would have found nothing wrong with it. But he wasn't that man anymore. And Leia would never be Salla, or Bria or Jenna, or any woman he had known. She had changed things.

They couldn't run from each other. Not without loosing exactly what they were fighting for in the first place.

The steam from the mug had slowed, cooling off now, small waves of heat now only lapping at the edges of the ceramic. Beat down by the cold of space.

**xXx**

Han jerked awake. The unsettling feeling of free-fall still coursing through his system, nerves firing erratically, heart pounding.

Hands landing solidly on the armrests of his familiar seat. One breath. And another. Something had woken him. Suddenly. Disoriented he sat up. It was dark, lit only by the small blinking blue light of the navi computer, still stubbornly waiting for his call.

The murky reflection in the viewscreen before him shifted and he turned; hazel meeting tired clocked brown.

"Hey, you okay?" watching her face, his voice caught slightly.

"What do I do?"

Her words sent a chill down his spine, curling into his heart, settling down and compressing the air from his lungs. She hadn't spoken the words to him. Hadn't even acknowledged his presence. Leia stood at the hatchway. Halfway between the door frame, hands light on the scuffed metal.

He hadn't breathed since she had spoken. Small voice too loud in too quite space. His mouth was dry.

"Leia."

Her eyes found his, impossibly large.

"Leia." he repeated, softly. Beseeching.

"I can feel it. It's coming."


	24. Chapter 24

_AN: Transition chapters are just the worst, aren't they? Happily, we're out of transition and back to drama drama drama. _

_AN2: I have bought TFA. And it will remain unopened on my mantle until I forgive Disney. Soooo... forever... probably?_

_AN3: I need a drink after this one..._

_AN4: Off for a much needed midweek holiday this week - consider this on account for next Monday. :) xox -Z_

* * *

Bathed in the inconsistent light of the darkened cockpit, Han's face held her attention, eyes serious now. Gone was his uncertainly; the concern and worry from only a moment ago. Poised for action, against a threat he had no hope in defeating. A darkness, a power which hungered for something, anything. Vengeance, greed. Manifesting itself slowly over the years, settling into her heart, wrapping itself around her like a second nervous skin. Always primed and anxious. She had fought, hard, but not hard enough. The effect hungered in her, clawing to be released. Feeding from her own fear, her own pain.

_Too much._

Fear. Anger. Hate. Suffering.

How many times had she heard her brother - her calm peaceful brother - speak of that path? Hundreds? Thousands? She hadn't seen it for what it was, not until it was too late; hadn't recognized the warning, far too deep into the darkness.

It was here, hours ago, with Han's hands on her in the hot fresher, water casting down her body, anger snipping through her; tiny bolts of energy. Swirling and focused. They were there. Real and tangible and dangerous. And she knew all at once; she had to do something. She had closed her eyes. Desperate. Once more. Just for a moment. She needed to feel it, to have him take away from her hat she didn't want to acknowledge. Cast it away as he had so many times before. Make her feel a little more safe, a little more human. A little less like the monster snarling inside her.

But he had stopped. Hearing something in that whispered plea. Something dangerous and solitary. Something she had no business wanting from him. Selfish and insecure. That had no place in her life with this man - they both knew it, and that was another problem entirely.

He would never forgive her. He could never know.

It flashed again, ripping through her soul, convulsing across her body in a bone deep shudder, burning her eyes.

_I'm sorry._

"Leia."

His voice a siren song; pleading. Battering against her weakening defenses, finding no purchase on the ragged rocks of her heart. Light illuminated half of his face, bright and clean, blue bounced off of the grown-out roughness adorning his face. Her fingers ached to touch it. But she couldn't. Fists curled into themselves. That bitch was right; he was far, far too good for her.

_Darkness. She was darkness. She was evil._

_Too much._

_Too much._

_Vader. Too much._

"Leia."

"I can't stop it." Words fled from her, breathy and far too honest for her own liking.

His eyes registered a spark of understanding.

_Too much. Too soon. Vader._

"It's coming." Her head fell forward, fleeting images of too much death, too much hatred and far too much fear.

"It won't. I won't let it." His jaw was set, that beautiful determined face she loved, and had loved, for so long. It would kill him if he knew, she believed that. But she had no choice.

_Too much._

"You can't stop it. It's too strong."

"So are you, Leia. Look at me."

She raised her eyes, slowly. "I'm scared."

And in that moment, more than ever before, he was as well.

xXx

"Where are we meeting him?" Leia asked from the navigator's seat behind him.

He had finally - after what seemed like hours of staring at each other - pulled away from her and activated the jump call to Void Station.

He had never been there before, but Chewbacca had, and they wouldn't be staying long anyway. Just enough time to get this pain in the ass exchange done and then they could get gone again. Maybe back to Kashyyyk. They had been happy there. Happier than they had been - perhaps ever. Leia needed space to work out whatever it was that she couldn't talk to him about. Maybe Luke could meet them there - neutral ground and all that. He might be able to help her.

"Loading Bay 90, Central Docks. Mid-level. Whatever the hell that means." He peered at the encrypted message from Lando over Chewie's left arm. The wookie chuffed a response and Han rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up sarcastically. "Oh well, good. You can be in charge this time. See if you do any better."

The _Falcon_ set down, sputtering in that all too familiar way she always did; as a velt shook off water after the rain.

"Do you mind if I stay here?" Leia asked as both males stood, shutting the ship down to stand-by.

"Course not." He hesitated for a heartbeat before dropping a kiss on the crown of her head, inhaling the faint familiar soapy, perfumed scent of her. "We won't be long." Drawing back and grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair, he smiled crookedly down at her.

"Okay." He took a step passed her and she felt raw panic boil up. "Han?" she stopped him, his eyes wary all of a sudden, hooded. "Be careful. I love you." He murmured something she couldn't hear over her own hammering heart and kissed her again quickly, fingers tracing down the curve of her ear. As quickly as it started, the panic recessed, beat back by the comfort of his touch. Her heart constricted tightly, full of cold and grief. As Han exited the cockpit, her eyes followed him until he disappeared around the corner, turning back only as she heard the distinct snap hiss from the lowering ramp. As she did so, she caught Chewbacca's steady gaze watching her; blue eyes intense - searching her battered wear-worn soul. She smiled quickly, hurried and fake. "Take care of him." She whispered. "I'll be fine." Ignoring his next question, she stood; heading back to the cabin she had shared with Han for over five years. Back to handling herself again. Back to pushing down her own wild brand of erratic darkness.

xXx

But, no matter how hard she tried, Leia couldn't stop counting.

_Thirty-eight._

_Thirty-nine._

_Forty._

It was exhausting. She had been flitting back and forth in between awareness of her actions for the last 27 hours. The counting had started in the darkened warehouse, knees burning, hands aching in forced submission on the dirty floor. It was an ingrained habit. Something she had started on the Death Star so very long ago. Breaths. Count them, Leia. As long as you count them, you have hope. Her childhood combat trainer's heavily accented voice trickled into her mind.

Now, in times of stress - any stress - she counted.

And apparently now she couldn't stop.

_Forty-seven._

Her hands trembled. Shoulders tight, back ridged. She rolled her neck, needing to get her head straight.

Fingers traced the ratty hem on the sleeve of her beloved sweater. Hesitating slightly, she picked it up and stuffed it into her bag. The zipper stuck, and she tugged angrily on it, feeling tears prick her eyes. Annoyed now more with herself, she pulled violently, the toggle broke, coming apart in her hand. Excellent. She snapped the straps closed and yanked it off the bunk. The weight of it settled on her shoulder, a horrible grief. A reminder. She needed to be free of this. But more than that, she needed to free him of this.

"What are you doing?"

She gasped and shot around, pack swinging widely against her small body, hands reaching defensively to the missing blaster at her hip - a blaster Han always insisted she carry. He framed the doorway. Large and so incredibly close.

"You're back. That was fast."

"What are you doing." he repeated, stepping just into the room, effectively blocking her exit, overhead lighting dialed up to maximum; casting sharp shadows across his face. She couldn't see his eyes. Leia swallowed. Bile rising up and settling at the back of her throat. _Fifty-five._

"I can't do this."

"What?"

She sighed tiredly as if he had completely missed the conversational thread. A small hand swept loosely from her side, indicating everything and nothing all together. "This."

"Oh for the love of - what!?" He looked ready to shoot something. Exasperation didn't sit well on men like Han Solo. "I thought we wanted this." He stepped forward.

"No. It was a mistake." Perhaps diplomatic coolness would keep her heart from exploding. She needed to go. Taking the chance offered, she slipped by him. Dragging her broken bag through the doorframe.

"You're leaving?"

"I need to let you go."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Voice lower now, he stalked after her fleeing figure, half a step behind her. She turned back when she reached the ramp, his face stopped her - she couldn't leave like this. Carefully taking hold of the ramp's piston arm, she met his gaze as he stopped a handspan away, peering into her face as if she had come completely unhinged before his very eyes. Perhaps she had, she thought bitterly at herself. She had obviously needed a wake up call. This wasn't the way her life was suppose to go. She wasn't suppose to end up happy-family. Running around the galaxy chasing something while all the while running frantically away from something much much darker.

She hurt people. She didn't want to. But she did. People like Bail and Obi-Wan. She tore apart good things, good people. She was tearing Han apart. Piece by horribly small piece. It was like watching her own soul disintegrate and die. She couldn't do that anymore. This wouldn't end well for either one of them. Not cleanly and happy and perfect. Not the way Han wanted it to. Not the way he fought for. They couldn't ever truly be the people they were on Kashyyyk. Or the couple they had been on Manaan. Not when everything kept colliding to rip them apart.

_Sixty-nine._

"I have to go, Han."

"Leia!" He growled, reaching for her.

"Let me go." She shrieked, wrenching her arm away from him, trying desperately to gain some ground away from him, she couldn't do this.

It didn't work and he tightened his grasp on her fractionally, fingers digging into her skin, his other hand taking hold of her tightly as well, locking her to him.

"I'll let you go," he breathed, words hissing from him like air leaking from a punctured compressor line; the force of them heady. He took a breath and continued, voice rough with emotion. "If that's what you want."

Her mouth opened; ragged and laboured.

He shook her, roughly, once and pulled her back to him, closer this time. She could feel the heat from him burning her skin. He held her eyes. Angry.

"Tell me that's what you want!" he thundered, scaring them both.

"I...I…"

"Tell me!"

"I can't."

"Can't what." He demanded. Hard. Eyes punishing.

"Tell you that, please, just let me be-" She whispered.

He let her go, shoving her slightly in the effort it took to leave her, she stumbled, reaching again for the piston arm.

"Free?" He looked mildly disgusted, as if finding something thoroughly unpleasant with someone he had been so comfortable with.

"I'm not free." she gasped.

"Oh spare me, please!" he shouted again advancing on her, causing a scene on the bustling landing dock. "After everything? This is it? You and me? Done. Over? And you were just going to run off, were you?"

She shook her head.

"Not good enough for even a goodbye then, am I?"

"Please, just listen to me! Stop-"

"Not even a fuck you. Just," his hands tightened into fists. "Gone?"

"I didn't want to hurt you." she whispered, hearing the patheticness of the hollow words as even before she spoke them.

"You want to go? You want to be free? I'm weighing you down, am I? Fine. Go then!"

She closed her eyes. "Han-"

"LOOK AT ME!"

She did. He loomed above her, ferocious and large. Angry and hurt. This was her fault. Luke was right. She gasped. She was destroying them. Him. He would hate her if he knew. She had to leave. She had to run. Flee. Rage and fight against the monsters of her soul.

She thought of the cave. Of Luke. Of his failure in it. He had told her, after Endor, after Bakura, one night on Home One, while Han sat playing sabacc with the other pilots. Told her of what happened in the cave. When he thought maybe she could listen and understand. He had been warning her, but she hadn't seen that. She only saw him. Vader. Her father. Their father. The monster who had tortured her days and night for far too long.

She hated him; had buried it well. Guarded her hated, protected it, fed from it. Feared it.

He was watching her; chest heaving.

Leia jumped out of her skin as the loading dock alarm blared overhead. Their window was up.

Han cursed in a language she had never heard before. Loud. Beings stepped back away from the couple, drawn as they were to the violence and drama of it all.

"I'm supposed to just let you go?" he snarled, hand landing above her shoulder close to her face, gripping the piston arm as well. "Because it's always what you want, isn't it? Always about you. What Leia needs. What Leia deserves."

_Eighty-one. _

_Too much. _

_Too much. _

"No." He pointed his index finger in her face, inches from her nose. "We're not done here."


	25. Chapter 25

_AN: I love the fall. It makes me want to write. xox _

* * *

The vice-grip on her upper arm hadn't lessened as he tugged her up the ramp - the gaping mouth hiss-snapping shut behind them - and now, standing just inside the vessel, heartbeat pounding under his fingers, they stood at odds.

Her mind clouded over; briefly and in a flash of remembrance.

It had been years ago, when she had first wanted to bite him. They had stood very similar to the way they were right now; toe to toe and heaving with angry effort. It had been back on Home One, down a quiet hallway which he had frog-marched her down like a misbehaving child, after returning from a blundered base-camp move from a moon cluster on the outer rim near Zulta.

Her mind now skipping through a lifetime's worth of memories and poor judgement to recall the absurd hunger to hurt him, lash out, remove the blunted pointer finger which had been aimed centimeters from her face. She had listened - or more accurately half listened - while he ranted and raved against her. His own reddening face bubbled with irritation and a grave desire to be listened to and obeyed.

Her young, idealistic blood had boiled over at the thought.

She would rather die, a small petty voice from the dark corner of her brain whispered venomously, than obey that arrogant, opinionated, half-wit still shouting at her, looming over her small figure, hot breath on her face distracting and foreign. How dare he talk to her like this? Dress her own as if he had a right to have the opinions he was hurling at her. And with that last angry thought, she had done it. Struck out and clamped down - hard - on the still outstretched accusatory digit in front of her nose.

The attack had in actuality taken them both by surprise. Her jaw sprang open almost as quickly as it had closed and two pairs of shocked eyes met for a very short moment before she turned and fled, running from the taste of him, retreating from the stock still figure rendered entirely speechless in the middle of the deserted hallway.

She had thought him angry at her that day, so many years ago. Angry for not listening, not following orders, not doing what he wanted her to do. She had been wrong. He had been - and still was, her heart sobbed quietly in her crushing chest - afraid for her. He hadn't been able to reconcile the thought of losing her.

But above all of that, he had been jealous.

Not _of_ anyone in particular. But jealous all the same. Jealous as she had secretly been. Jealous of what they weren't. What she wanted to be and what she saw in others. Women had always been quite determined to climb all over him, though much less literally now. Leia had dealt with her share of gossip in relation to Han, but it hadn't stopped there. For every story-rumour which had circulated about her and the handsome smuggler, there were three more going around about that same smuggler and some other woman.

She had played it off, she didn't care.

Expect she had. And so did he. And here they were.

She knew the taste of him now, better than she knew her own being.

But even that hadn't been able to save her.

Her skin sang with tension. Hypersensitive. Nerves twisted and raw. Ears rang with the now distant blaring of docking bay alarms.

She needed him, even now, angry as he was; glaring at her with a raw passion which made her want to sink to the floor and beg him to heal her.

She needed him to _fix_ her.

Selfish. That's what this was. On both sides. Hers and his. Was it worth it? Could she stay now, him angry as he was? Hurt beyond anything she would ever have wanted.

Whispers hissed, tangled and evil, in her mind.

_Traitor_.

Her father's voice. Bail's voice.

Rapid fluttering inside her chest matched the frantic splintering of her soul.

Chewie howled sharply from somewhere behind her, bringing her back to herself and what she had nearly almost done.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, eyes still closed.

Betrayal sat thick around them as he finally let go of her small frame. Saying nothing, brushing passed her to the cockpit for a quick re-calculation. The broken, half open pack hung heavily at her side until slowly dropping unnoticed to the grating. She wanted very much, all of a sudden, to hide. To crawl into a small dark place and sleep. Hide. Weather the storm away from the people she loved.

_Traitor_.

Lea choked back a sob. Enough tears; angry now at herself. She was ruining everything. Again. Like a scared shitless kid, running headlong into battle because she thought it made her brave. Had she really not grown up passed that? Was she really still that person? Did she actually truly want to re-live that life all over again? Leia already knew the answer. It was the same one to the question she has asked Han that evening on Kashyyyk in the rain; sitting high in the canopy, worries eating her alive bit by bit. Running wouldn't help her anymore. She couldn't outrun this. But, her stubborn half kicked in, not being able to out-run something didn't mean she needed to haul other along with her, did it?

"I will only ask you once, Leia." started by his voice - clear and commanding in the echoing lounge - she gasped and spun to face him. Skin ashen, hands grasping pathetically at her sides. "And I need you to be honest with me." Han continued, voice slightly softer now, eyes glancing to her fingers momentarily - as it needing to reach for her. But he was stronger than that and this couldn't wait any longer.

Silence broke like crackling fire between them as she slowly nodded. Fine then. Enough of this.

"Do you," he paused, breathing deeply as his eyes moved back to search her face. "Do you love me."

The words hurt him, she could tell. His throat moved and the small tell of a twitch pulled at her lower jaw.

"Of course I do." She whispered, harsher than she would have liked, tears threatening again against the enormous effort to hold herself together. Her throat closing against the rasping jaws of heartbreak. She could hear it, flickering in her soul. She was dying. This was killing her as surely as it was him.

He nodded. Unmoving. Silence stretched again between them as he weighed her words. Instincts from living a life a little too far from the centre were kicking back in for him, she could almost watch the mask which had protected him for so long against people like her struggle to fall back into place. Before it could come down completely, he nodded again, slowly, taking two long steps and stopping within inches of her. She though he might kiss her then like she desperately wanted him to. But instead, a steady hand traced the outline of her cheek, so lightly he barely touched her, pausing only to move an errant strand back behind her ear.

"I have loved you since that night it rained on Yavin4." Her breath caught and her hand gripped tight around her waist, holding herself together.

He had never told her that before. She had never known.

He pulled away from her abruptly, as if having suddenly making up his mind; turning away from her outstretched fingers and the sound of retreating footfall down the corridor was the sound of the end of the world.

* * *

**END PART ONE**


	26. Chapter 26

**... Part Two ...**

* * *

_A swig of whiskey and a thought of you _  
_Were the only things that got me through_

_\- The Rocky Fortune_

* * *

It had taken three days, but finally, they had come for her.

Masked figures, towering and menacing, they had found her; though she did not care to know how. They had come, blasters drawn, had kicked down her door, stormed through the tiny, muggy home and hauled her away; hands bound and screaming.

Now, sore and still entirely shaken, Salla Zend hunched in the inhumanly small passenger lounge on the transport shuttle presumably on her way to meet a contact she had never seen. Her heart pounded and again she silently cursed ever having even heard the name Han Solo. He had caused her nothing but trouble, not to say anything about that spacer-whore has-been princess who tagged along after him all the time.

She had watched them for years, drawn against her own pathetic will to holoscreens in bars and space ports. Bile rising up with ever smiling, happy photograph; both doe-eyed and waving, hanging on each other as if leads in a galactic holodrama pageant. She snorted. Perhaps that's exactly what they were, just as she had mocked the hostage young woman, kneeling uncomfortably on that dirty warehouse floor. Perhaps they were pawns after all. Perhaps that's what she had now become.

The airways had exploded over the last few months, hysteria over the galaxy's favourite power-couple had become suffocating. Reaching as far into the outer worlds as Hutt Space, Salla couldn't help but wonder what the intensity of it all looked like in the Core - where they had lived, presumably together, for the last few years. She had tried, desperately she had tried, not to care. To move on. But suddenly, the Hapen Marriage Crisis - which was the new term coined by the mid-rim media for the absurdity of the situation - brought so many deep buried hurts to the surface.

Her breath shook. She was still entirely unsure of why she even took the assignment. Han had been right - damn him - she wasn't a bounty hunter and she certainly had never killed anyone like she had been prepared to do to what's her name. _Leia_, her subconscience hissed at her. _Don't pretend you don't remember. _But as soon as she happened upon the information, something inside of her - a dark angry thing which twisted with loneliness and betrayal - knew she wanted this job more than she wanted anything else. She could do it. She could hurt him. She could make those happy smiling faces disappear.

Except she couldn't. She didn't. And now she was here - worse off than before.

And all because of that bastard Han Solo.

A hatch to the left hissed open and two armed, fully armored guards walked through. Blasters drawn, the taller of the two nudged her towards the ramp with the toe of a boot.

Struggling to her knees she shuffled forward until she could stand, glancing sideways at the fully covered guards, weapons drawn and deadly trained.

Out-gunner and out-manned, Salla was finally out of ideas.

**xXx**

"My client is not interested in your excuse of incompetence."

"I-"

"Nor am I." The clear female voice cut her off. Salla stood, hands still bound, on a small dark platform, while someone paced several meters above her head on a floating walkway. The cynic inside her wanted to roll her eyes at the drama and showiness of it all, and she would have, if she wasn't at the same time terrified. She was far _far_ over her head.

"Look." She stepped forward sharply to gain attention, the noise echoed around the grand room. "Solo would have been easy. You never told me I was bringin' in a witch!"

The woman laughed, clear and tinkling. Unnerving. Beautiful. And the pacing stopped for a moment. "The small rebel princess? A witch? She was too much for you, was she?"

"You don't know what she's capable of! No one can bring her in alone."

"Well, it seems you certainly couldn't." That stung. The pacing started again.

"I was hired-"

"To terminate her."

"Yes, and-"

"Bring Solo in."

"The princess isn't-"

"As I said, I am uninterested in your excuses."

"But if you-"

"You failed." The voice above her yelled. "You toyed with them instead. Had you set aside your own pettiness this would have been taken care of."

Salla remained quiet. The faceless woman was right.

"Now. I am not a generous person. So, if it were up to me, we would not have bothered bringing you here. But..." She trailed off as footfall descended the stairs. Salla swallowed, hard. "Unfortunately it isn't up to me. We will be giving you another chance." The room was silent. No footsteps. No breathing apart from her own laboured gasps. "So," Salla jumped and spun around, the breath of the voice hot on her neck, "I suggest you bring them in as stipulated. And I suggest you do it quickly." A lock of red hair curled from under the hood just over the woman's left eye, and the face which was cast in half a shadow smiled at her, menacing and far _far_ too beautiful. Then, as suddenly as she arrived, the woman was turned and was swallowed up in the shadows.

**xXx**

"You've gone soft, my dear." Familiar hushed tone whispered near her ear. She had heard his approach, choosing to ignore the advance for the short scuffle below her feet.

"Hardly." She breathed, eyes unmoving.

"You would give that vengeful, jealous incompetent woman another chance? I call that soft." he was mocking her and she eyed him carefully.

"Never underestimate what a jealous, vengeful woman is capable of. Especially when desperate and provoked; as she is." The hooded woman nodding minutely to the small figure flanked by the two guards escorting her away. They would deliver her back to the hovel of a dwelling they had fished her from in the first place.

"Why not handle the situation yourself? You are more than capable to terminating a pesky princess and bringing a would then be frantic, grieving ex-smuggler in for reward.

"That would defeat the purpose of this exercise."

"Don't bore me, my darling."

"If I must spell it out for you," the woman sighed and grasped a glass of wine loosely cradling it in the palm of her hand, holding the warming liquid to her cheek. "We don't want to _kill_ her. We want to _break_ her. Which, as you just heard, has started to progress beautifully."

"Break her?" The blonde man turned to face away from the railing, leaning back slightly against the smooth metal bar.

"Leia Organa is the twin sister to Luke Skywalker, self proclaimed Jedi Knight and a righteous pain in the ass."

"That's common knowledge," the man shrugged, sipping from his own glass while watching the woman he hardly knew before him.

"It is."

"Then, I don't see-"

"They failed to break him. I will not. Not with her in my grasp. Luke would do anything to save his little sister."

"From you?"

She arched a severely manicured eyebrow and smoothed her cheek over the fine crystal. "There is still a market for Skywalker blood. Not everything died when that coward Darth Vader killed my Emperor."

"You don't mean...? But, he's mad."

"He is entirely insane. But that is not what appeals to me."

"You want to hand them both over?"

"One or both, it makes no difference to him or to me. Just as long as the Skywalker line is snubbed out. And quickly." She smiled at him, lifting the curl back under her hood.

"Careful, my dear. Your claws are showing." He whispered into her ear and stepped lightly down the walkway towards the bridge.

Mara Jade watched him go, let slip the wine glass from her fingers - ignoring the shattering of crystal on grated steel and brought her right hand up out from the deep folds of her cloak. The handle of a lightsabre - her only reminder of a life she held before everything was destroyed - held loosely in her hand, and ignited the blade. She watched it for several heartbeats.

"Claws indeed." She whispered.


End file.
